


Brownies&Flames, Cookies&Love, Parties&NeonGreenShorts

by orphan_account



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Shorts, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Basically most of the characters need some form of therapy but they also crack some decent jokes, Bring tissues, College, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, Drama, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fluff, Friendship, Growth, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, Hugs, Humor, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Trauma, Young Love, a lot of fluff, it gets angstier as it progresses, learning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They're in their second year of college, feeling like very mature adults but there's still so much they have to learn.There are lies and secrets, there's pain and scars, there's arguments and misunderstandings, there's a lot of growth to be done and a lot of learning. Most importantly, there are brownies and flames, there are cookies and love and there are parties and neon green shorts.Our six friends must learn to cope with all life will throw at them through humorous shenanigans and heartbreaking moments.OrA way too complex college AU intended to be a one-shot but then it turned into this monstrosity with an unknown number of chapters. How much angst and bad jokes can Artemis fit into one fic? Read to find out!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 58
Kudos: 80





	1. Welcome to hell- *cough* I mean college

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @xworldofartemisx

“I can't believe this!” Roman stormed into his dorm, mumbling incoherent profanities under his breath, tossing himself dramatically onto his bed.

His roommate raised a brow, lowering his book. “What seems to be the problem?”

“You know D.C.?” Roman asked, muffled by the pillow.

“Yes, he’s just been assigned to the debate team after his ‘secret club’ fell apart. Apparently there was quite a scene.”

“Yeah! Him, my whack brother and Virgil Procella were all part of that dumb ‘secret club’ and then my brother punched Virgil and Virgil hissed at him and somehow someone bit someone on the ankle and now Virgil has joined my theatre club!” Roman wailed, turning to stare at the ceiling in despair.

“And that is a problem why exactly?”

“Because, Logan!” Roman looked at him, outraged, “That emo nightmare is going to ruin our play! He’s not an actor, if anything he’s a-…a- an opposite-actor.”

“Hm.” Logan had used his empathy for the day and returned to preparing for his physics exam, ignoring Roman’s Shakespearean monologue that went on.

He only interrupted once to ask, “Hey, what club was Remus assigned to?”

“Uh, dance I think. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Alright, everyone, we have a new member on our debate team, Logan, as the captain, announced. “Everyone welcome D.C. Schutz.”

Some awkward clapping and a few cheers later, D.C. was seated to Logan’s left and the debate of the day began.

“Does the ends really justify the means?” Logan presented the question.

“Yes.” D.C. responded immediately. “If something needs to be done, who cares how you achieve it.”

“I’d prefer it if you wait until you’ve been assigned to a team, D.C.” Logan clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“I don’t have to follow your rules.” D.C. stuck out his split tongue in a very mature manner, tugging down his gloves.

Logan assigned him to the ‘against’ team. D.C. went ahead and joined the other one, sweet-talking Remy Rever into switching sides.

The absolute disregard for the rules along with questionable morals made Logan wonder if he would be a good addition to the team. Still, he’d have to learn to work alongside the person both him and his friends absolutely despised.

“First, he made Remy switch teams and then just blatantly ignored every single rule I put down! It’s like he doesn’t understand it’s called a debate team for a reason.” Logan ranted to their third roommate, Patton Miłość , who sat cross-legged on his bed, his chin propped up on his hands, and listened intently.

“I told you he was bad news.” Patton reminded. “No wonder his ‘secret club’ fell apart when he probably had no idea how to even lead it.”

“I don’t know what to do with him.”

“Did you hear the drama teacher made Roman tutor Virgil Procella?” Patton asked then, after a beat of silence. “Apparently, since he’s new to theatre, Roman has to help him out. He’s freaking out.”

Logan hummed. “I’d imagine. Those two really never got along.”

“I don’t even get why. Out of those three delinquents, Virgil is the nicest. I actually enjoy hanging out with him. ”

“I don’t care much for any of them. D.C. is too complicated, Virgil I can tolerate and Remus…I don’t even know what to say about him.”

“I do!” Roman stormed in, slamming the door. “How about, he’s a dickhead and he’s too feral to be left with anyone who doesn’t have a weapon to defend themselves with. You know how we went home for the weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that uncontrollable bitch took one of D.C.’s pet snakes, brought it with him and stuffed it in my bag! It bit me!”

“Was it poisonous?”

“Yeah, Pat, it was. I’m dead. You’re talking to my ghost.” Roman deadpanned.

Patton stuck his tongue out.

Roman returned the gesture.

Logan sighed.

“The best part? D.C. didn’t even know he took it so he’d been looking for his poor pet all weekend thinking it was dead.”

“Hey, Sognano.” A quiet voice called from the doorway.

Roman made a show of rolling his eyes before he turned around. “What?”

“We have rehearsal. Just the two of us. Teachers orders.” And with that, Virgil turned on his heel and left, expecting Roman to follow him.

“I’m gonna wait fifteen minutes just to piss him off.” Roman concluded, sitting on his bed with his arms crossed.

Logan chuckled. “How very mature.”

“You’re very mature!” Roman yelled back.

“Why, yes I am, thank you for noticing.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

“Sure, prep.”

Rihanna’s ‘Skin’ blasted through the courtyard as Remus and his new dance team practiced the overly-provocative routine.

Logan was sitting on a bench nearby, attempting to study and went over to tell them to quiet down but now he was frozen to the spot, watching the usually disruptive Remus Sognano move so elegantly and fluidly.

His body flowed from move to move in measured motions, each curve working perfectly to show off his flexibility.

Remus caught his eye, no doubt noticing his gaping moth, and he smirked, winking. Logan could’ve sworn he took extra effort to make his moves that much more prominent from that moment on.

Thankfully (because Logan was dangerously close to fainting) the song ended and the team dispersed across the courtyard for their water bottles or a quick snack.

The snack Remus had in mind, however, was Logan and he headed towards him slowly, giving him plenty of time to walk away.

Logan’s legs refused to work and then it was too late with Remus standing too close and smiling too wide.

“Hey, Lo-llipop.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. “What’d you think of my performance.”

“U-uh well, uhm, yo-you’re physique would suggest you’d be good at dancing and your, u-uh flexibility is optimal for such a hobby so, uhm, I think, statistically speaking, you did great.” Logan didn’t recognise the nervousness nor the stutters of his wavering voice and he especially didn’t recognise the strange tingly feeling in the pit of his stomach, something akin to being tickled by a feather from the inside. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Thank you.” Remus ran a neon green acrylic nail from Logan’s shoulder down his arm. “I really appreciate it.”

Something short-circuited.

Logan could almost smell something burning in his brain as the wires broke and the electricity zapped and burned before turning off completely.

“Uh-…Hm.”

“You can come watch us practice every day if you want. Same place, same time.” Remus told him and then left with a wink over his shoulder.

“Uh-…Hm.”

“So, what’re you supposed to teach me?” Virgil made it quite clear he’d rather be anywhere else than alone on the stage with Roman.

“I dunno. Have you ever acted before?”

“Acted like I don’t hate my existence so my parents get off my case? Sure.”

Roman resisted the urge to groan. Why did he have to be doomed to tutor the most depressing person on the planet in the skillful art of acting, acting which required liveliness and passion, a loud booming voice and a brilliant smile. It did not require a hunched over posture, dark eyes hidden by a messy fringe nor did it require a small voice barely above a gravelly whisper.

“Look, I don’t wanna do this any more than you do but we don’t really have a choice so let’s just get it over with. ” Virgil grumbled and it made Roman wonder if he had actually said all of that out loud.

“Okay.” Roman clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with something simple. Have you ever, and answer for real this time, acted before?”

“No.”

“Do you even want to?”

“No.”

“Wonderful.”

“No.”

“Wh- How- That wasn’t even a question!” Roman waved his hands in frustration. “You know what?! If you’re not going to take this seriously, we don’t have to do this at all! I can just quit and leave you to fend for yourself in this cruel theatre world!”

His rant came to a screeching halt when he saw Virgil snickering, looking at him with undeniable fondness he quickly tried to hide behind his bangs.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, sweetie, I’m laughing with you, don’t worry.” Virgil said before bursting into another fit of breathless chuckles.

“Can you please take this seriously?”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” He wheezed one last time before taking a calming breath. “Can we just, like, act out a scene from something and call it a day?”

“Wha- You know what?! Let me tell you something-“

Virgil zoned out after that, admiring the way the spotlight awoke Roman’s brownie-colored eyes in amber flames. It was such a perfect comparison, he thought, for Roman. Sweet but fiery. Brownies and flames.

D.C. sat under the bleachers, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, lost in thought.

“Hi.” A shy greeting. Patton made his way over cautiously.

“Hello, Patton Miłość, right?”

“Mhm. I sit behind you in philosophy.” Patton swung back and forth on his heels. “You know, people usually light those.” He pointed to the cigarette.

“Well, I don’t wanna smoke it.”

“Then why do you have it?” Patton asked. “Cosplaying as Augustus Waters?”

That managed to drag a chuckle out of D.C.’s throat. “No. Remus gave it to me. He said it’d make me look cool.”

“Oh. That still doesn’t explain why you won’t light it.”

D.C. was quiet for long enough to make Patton sit next to him, something like a puppy reluctantly sniffing your hand, debating whether or not to trust you.

“Do you think it’d make me look cool if I lit it?”

Patton shrugged. “I don’t like cigarettes. They’re not good for you. They do, however, have a certain aesthetic people might find cool and I wouldn’t judge anyone for using them. It’s their life.”

“Hm.” D.C. observed the cigarette for a few more seconds and then pulled out a lighter, lit it and then watched as it shriveled up and burned in his hand. “But to you, personally, do cigarettes look cool?”

“Not really, no. They mostly just make me cough.” Patton made a point of pushing D.C.’s hand further away to back away from the smoke.

“I don’t think they look cool either.” He concluded, tossing the cigarette to the ground, frowning at it and then picking it up and throwing it into a nearby trashcan.

“This was a strange conversation.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Patton considered for a moment before asking, “Could I ask you something?”

“Of course, I might not answer, but you can ask me whatever you want.” D.C. replied with a subtle smirk.

Eyes trailing across the scar on the side of D.C.’s face which spread down to his neck and disappeared beneath the neckline of his button-up, Patton asked, “Why are you always so mean to people?”

“I’m not mean. I’m careful and I’m honest. It’s the latter people don’t like.”

“But…people always talk about you as a liar…”

“Yeah, exactly. When someone tells you a truth about yourself you don’t like, you’d rather convince yourself and everyone else it was a lie then just accept it.” D.C. said, his eyes somewhere far away as he got lost in thought. “People claim they want to get to know themselves but by that they only mean the good parts.”

Patton managed a nod, eyes still fixated on the intricate lines on D.C.’s face.

“You can ask me about it, you know.” D.C. looked at him and Patton only then took notice of his blind eye, glazed over and greyish.

“I don’t want to pry.”

“No, that’s not it.” D.C. looked away again. “You just don’t care enough, that’s all.”

D.C. stood then, his tall lean figure enough to make Patton shrink into himself suddenly aware of his round face and lack of muscle. “What do you want?”

“O-oh, uh, sorry. Logan asked me to come get you. Emergency debate club meeting in the English classroom.” He blurted way to quickly and then bolted in the opposite direction.

“Thanks.” D.C. told the air Patton left behind which still smelled of cookies and perfume which, somehow, smelled like love.

“Okay. You’re good with words and you have enough passion but your face shows no emotions.” Once in his tutor mode, Roman seemed to forget everything else including his distaste for Virgil as he focused on creating a perfect actor out of him.

“How could it? I’ve never felt an emotion in my life.”

“Yeah, sure. Now shut up and listen. It’s not enough to just tell the audience what you’re thinking and feeling, you have to show them. When you’ve mastered that, you’ll be able to leave so much unsaid and instead explain it to the audience with your expressions and body language.”

“Okay…” Virgil wasn’t convinced. “So how do I do that?”

“Let’s try a little exercise.” Roman sat cross-legged on the floor, motioning for Virgil to join him.

Begrudgingly he did. “These are new jeans. If they get dirty I’ll blame you.”

Roman ignored him completely. “I’ll give you an emotion and you try and show it to me with just your face.”

“Okay.”

“Sad.”

Virgil did nothing.

“Perfect! Now angry.”

Virgil frowned a bit, an intimidating sort of gleam shining in his impossibly dark eyes. His upper lip drew up like a cat’s would, showing artificially sharpened canines.

“O-okay. Great.” Roman gulped. “How about we go into some more difficult concepts?”

He, again, did nothing so Roman took it as a yes.

“Alright, let’s say you’ve just gotten home and you find out your parents and significant other?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Okay, boyfriend, have prepared a surprise party for your birthday. How would you react?”

Virgil didn’t budge.

“That might’ve worked for sadness but you’ll have to try a bit harder if you want to convince me that brooding face is happy under the pale foundation.” Roman joked but it fell short as Virgil averted his gaze, tugging on a loose string on his hoodie.

“Virgil?”

“Sorry, I-, uh I just- you just kinda hit a nerve.” He gave a half-assed smile.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll try.” The overexagarated smile and the clearly visible tears behind the false glimmer of joy in his eyes made Roman’s stomach twist with something unfamiliar but akin to nausea.

“Is your family….” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Virgil knew what he was asking.

“A bunch of judgmental assholes who’ve been treating me like shit since I was born and even worse since I came out? Yes.”

“Do you want to-“

“No. I don’t wanna talk about it. Why? ‘Cause you genuinely don’t like me, you never have, but if I tell you about my trauma suddenly you’ll become my best fucking friend, not because you care but because you’ll feel bad for me. I don’t want your pity.” Virgil all but growled, his anger real this time. “Is this acting class over?”

Roman just nodded dumbly.

And that was that.

“What’s this emergency meeting about?” D.C. plopped down into his seat, taking in the displeased faces of his colleges who all suddenly found it interesting to stare at anything but him.

“This meeting has been called to vote on kicking you off the team.” Logan informed, avoiding meeting D.C.’s eye. “You disregard the rules, you tell blatant lies, you refuse to debate a point you don’t necessarily agree with, you insult and you, to sum it up, simply do not care about anyone but yourself. And that’s not something I, as the captain, will tolerate on my team so either you get yourself together or we’re voting to have you kicked off.”

D.C. eyed him with distaste, his nose scrunching up as if disgusted. “You have such a simple mind, Logan.”

“On the contrary, I believe myself to be quite intelligent.” Logan crossed his arms in offense.

“And that is what makes you so simple. All of you. You all scramble desperately to satisfy the teachers and the principal and the rules and regulations the school system had been trying since we were children to instill in us without ever once asking yourself who you’re doing it for.  
Yourself?  
Your teachers?  
A ‘future’?  
Is academic success really what makes for a successful future? You’re puppets and you’re letting this whack-ass system- sorry for the word choice, I’ve been spending too much time with Remus. You’re letting this dysfunctional system take advantage of you.”

“Your point?” Emile, one of the other students, asked, lost in his rambles.

“My point is you don’t need to kick me off. I quit.”

“But you need to have at least one extracurri-“

“Fuck the system!” D.C. shouted, throwing his jacket over his shoulder and strutting out, kicking the door closed with the heel of his platform boot.

“So…that was something.” Logan concluded.

“Sweetums, that was an absolute disaster. That boy burned you down to the ground. Has anyone noticed he’s actually kind of hot?”

Emile frowned. “He’s not that hot.”

Remy took a sip of their latte before grabbing Emile’s hand. “You know you’re my main, babes. I love you. I’m simply appreciating the aesthetics of the guy who has just managed to make Logan’s perfectly gelled hair stand up in rage.”

“That is quite hot.” Emile giggled. “Almost as hot as Zuko’s firebending!”

“You’re doing great, babes.” Remy kissed his forehead.

Virgil picked up his phone with shaky hands and managed to find Patton’s number and call it.

“Hyellow?”

“Hi, uhm, Pat-…It’s…I-I…bathroom. Now. P-Please.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Patton hung up.

Virgil managed to stumble to the bathroom where he slid to the ground, his breathing growing more and more shallow by the second.

The room was spinning, tears falling, and Patton was nowhere to be found.

Then, there were arms on his shoulders pulling him into a hug and someone was talking, their voice soft and soothing.

“Breathe, Virgil. You can do it.” They praised him for every shallow intake of oxygen, guiding him through it slowly and patiently.

Slowly but surely, Virgil managed to sit up on his own and take a deep soothing breath. He opened his eyes to find D.C. staring at him with concern in his eyes. His make-up was smudged and his face swollen.

“Have you been crying?”

“That’s not important right now. Are you okay?” D.C. deflected the question.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” It was awkward. They’d just argued a day ago. Badly. And then Remus got involved and bit Virgil on the ankle, to make things worse

“I’m sorry I left. But you have to understand I couldn’t stay in that house anymore. I couldn’t .”

“I can understand a lot of things.” D.C.’s voice was venom. “I can understand taking a new last name, I can understand not wanting to have anything to do with our asshole parents. What I don’t understand is how you can just leave me alone when you know I hate them and want out just as much as you do. You didn’t even ask if I wanted to go with you.”

Virgil frowned. He did love his brother, truly. Despite never telling anyone he was actually his brother. He’d run away from home two years ago, just in time for the two of them to go to college and pretend they weren’t even friends, let alone family. The club was an excuse to ‘talk things out’ as D.C. put it but turned out to be an opportunity to almost murder each other every Friday after school.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. But that’s just not good enough.”D.C. stood then and backed away, leaning against the wall. It was a clear sign to get the hell out so Virgil did, without looking back.

Patton frowned at the sound of sniffles and muffled whimpers coming from one of the bathroom stalls. “Hey, Virgil, is that you?”

Peeking beneath the door, Patton saw a familiar pair of black platform boots which most definitely didn’t belong to his sneaker-wearing friend. “Are you alright in there?”

“Yes.” The crack of their voice gave them away. “No.”

Carefully, Patton opened the door.

D.C. sat on the closed toilet seat, his golden eye shadow and perfect eyeliner pouring down his face, leaving smudges on the skin blotted with red. “Go away, I don’t need anyone seeing me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Weak.” D.C. said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus, you hate me so why would you want to comfort me.”

Patton frowned at the conflict bubbling up in his chest. He really didn’t like D.C. and he would never trust a word that left his mouth but then again, this broken creature in front of him wasn’t D.C. Not even close. This wasn’t a cocky bastard with no other hobby but hissing venomously. This was a lie dressed up in pretty clothes and smoky makeup.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, right.” D.C. laughed bitterly. “Is that why you avoid me and steer new students away from me and look at me like I’m a piece of garbage? Is that why you tell absolutely everyone not to trust me? Hm? You do all that because you simply adore me?!” D.C. was aware his mask was crumbling as was his entire being, spilled in jet black liner and glittery eye shadow over the bathroom floor, but he could no longer gain enough self-control to stop it.

“I don’t hate you.” Patton repeated. “I just hate who you choose to present yourself as. It’s dishonest. But I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”

They sat in silence for a moment, D.C. on the toilet and Patton on his cardigan which he spread across the floor, not talking or moving, just basking in the quiet and the occasional sound of someone peeing.

“Patton?” D.C. asked, his voice almost shy.

“Hm?”

“Can I have a hug?”

Patton embraced him instead of answering, taking his shivering frame into his warm arms and rocking them gently back and forth. “You’re really cold.”

“Cold-blooded.”

Patton giggled. “Sure you are, cuddle-bug.”

D.C. flushed a dark shade of crimson but didn’t oppose the nickname, instead embracing it and squeezing Patton a little tighter, cursing under his breath when he started crying again, his body shaking with sobs.

“Hey, it’s okay. What happened to you?” Patton’s voice was laced with concern.

“I-I…I got kicked off the debate team. I mean I quit but only because they were going to kick me off.”

“Logan did say you refused to follow the rules.” Patton noticed. “It made me think you didn’t wanna be on the team. Why do you care so much? You can find a different extracurricular.”

D.C. sighed shakily. “I know. But this is something I know I’m good at. And I actually enjoyed it. I just won’t follow their stupid rules.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Patton nudged him gently.

“Because it’s scary, okay? It’s scary to let someone have control over you and dictate what you do, when you do it, why and with who. I want to have control over my own life, make my own choices.”

“I get that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

And they stayed like that for a while, holding each other and learning slowly that what someone wants you to think of them isn’t always good and you can never know someone smells like cookies and love until you’ve hugged them after having a mental breakdown.

Logan came to watch the dance practice again the following day. He wasn’t sure why.

Remus joined him on the bench during a break, wrapping his lips sinfully around his water bottle and making Logan gulp and loosen his tie slightly.

“You came.”

“You invited me.”

“I heard you kicked my friend off the debate team.” Remus went straight to business, his seductive grin turning into a stern frown. “I didn’t like that very much.”

“He wasn’t willing to obey rules. I had no option but to let him go.” Logan explained, staring at the cracked concrete of the courtyard.

“Yeah, bitch, you did. You could’ve asked him why he refused to listen to you and your dumb rules.” Remus was crude and he was harsh, but never to Logan. Not when he tutored him, not when Remus attempted to make him better at sports, not even when they argued about Roman. Until now.

“And I suppose you know this mysterious reason for his complete disregard for rules and order.”

“I’m his best friend. I know everything about him.”

“Well what is it?”

Remus cackled. “You think it’s gonna be that easy? I’m not telling you. I might think you’re a smokin’ hot piece of smart, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna betray my bestie for you. Also, d’you wanna go to Remy’s party with me tomorrow night?”

“I-I uh,” Logan was incredibly distracted by Remus fishnets and neon green shorts. “Y-yes.” He found himself saying. “I’d like that.”

Remus smacked a kiss, which no doubt left a black lipstick mark, on his cheek and then waved. “Great! Pick me up at 9:30, the party starts at 10!”

“Pm?”

“No, dumbass, it’s gonna be a fucking breakfast party and later we’ll have some brunch.” Remus rolled his eyes but it was mostly fond. “Of course it’s pm.”

“So…We’ve got some things to discuss.” Logan informed his roommates that evening after emerging from the bathroom.

Patton nodded. “Yup, I agree.”

“Okay, what do we need to talk about?” Roman jumped up on Patton’s bed, curling up next to him while Logan lay stiffly on his back on Patton’s other side.

“Patton, you go first.”

“Well, okay. Uhm, so I was in the bathroom-…”

“Oh! Patton! You dirty scoundrel! In the bathroom?! That is so unsanitary!” Roman teased with a shit-eating grin.

Patton’s cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment. “Shush. I was in the bathroom and I heard crying and it was D.C. and then, long story short, we ended up hugging on the floor for like thirty minutes and it was really nice and he smells nice and did you know he wears waterproof mascara but it still gets melted by tears!” It was all one long smushed together sentence but they’d been friends long enough he knew the other two could understand him.

“I’m going to a party with Remus.” Logan said calmly though he was anything but.

Roman sat up abruptly. “You’re what?”

“He asked me to a party. I said yes. He also called me a ‘smokin’ hot piece of nerd’ which I, surprisingly, didn’t mind.”

Roman looked as conflicted as ever. “And you’re sure you want to go with him? He isn’t making you do this?”

Logan was offended by the assumption he could be persuaded to do anything by anyone. “Of course not. I actually,” He coughed. “I kind of like him.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you were capable of human emotion.”

“Shut up, prep.”

“Sure, nerd.”

Patton sighed but a soft smile graced his features made even softer by the fairy lights on his wall. He felt warm.

“Also, I may or may not have called D.C. cuddle-bug at some point.”

“What?!”

“Patton!”

Virgil dragged himself back to the theatre room, his frown deep enough to cause permanent wrinkles, something Roman would have to warn him about. If Virgil ever spoke to him again, that is.

“Hey, friendooo…!” Roman was awkward in such an unimaginably embarrassing way even Virgil was taken aback.

“Friendo? No. Absolutely not. Never. Not even in a hundred years.”

“Oh, okay. Okay, oh. Uhm. Look.” Roman sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry about yesterday but you have to admit you got really defensive for no reason.”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at him, climbing the stage. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Half an hour later Virgil had pretended to win the lottery, his cat died and then he was the emo version of Cinderella. Alright, that last one might’ve been a stretch, but Roman was running out of ideas, distracted by Virgil’s constant fidgeting and nervous ticks such as biting his lip until it was dangerously close to bleeding and Roman had to say something.

“Virgil, are you okay? You look nervous. Well, more nervous than usual.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough.” Roman took a seat in the audience, motioning for Virgil to join him. “Can we please talk?”

“Okay.” A quiet mumble and then he was there, closer to Roman than he’d ever been, their shoulders brushing as they both stared at their respective laps awkwardly.

“What happened to us?” Roman asked finally.

“Life got in the way.”

“Well, why did we let it?” He protested. “Because I literally don’t remember the reason I started ‘hating’ you.”

“Yeah, me neither.” The other admitted. “How do you go from best friends to…this?”

“I-…I guess we just drifted apart? I mean we haven’t spoken since freshman year college. I didn’t even know you were having trouble at home.”

“I’ve always had trouble at home.” Virgil sighed. “It just reached the point where I couldn’t handle it anymore. And I wished I could talk to you. But…it’s hard to, uh, to- to reach out to people.”

“I know but it’s not that hard not to push them away when they reach out to you.”

Virgil met his eyes then and Roman was taken aback by how much he could see in them, he could’ve seen before had he bothered to actually look. Heartbreak, loss, hurt, pain. But also something wild, something fighting and burning brightly in the violet thunderstorm of his dark irises. Broken and wild.

That’s how he’d describe Virgil. Broken and wild.

And Roman, realising this abruptly, slowly and carefully, and then fully and suddenly, thought it was beautiful.

Logan realised parties were not at all his thing a little too late, already surrounded by smoke, loud music and alcohol.

There was a group in the corner who didn’t drink and instead busied themselves with small-talk but Logan didn’t know how to do that, how to just come up to them and start chatting. The thought alone terrified him.

Setting his untouched drink on the counter, Logan went in search of an empty room where he could sit and wallow in his incompetence to make human contact.

Logan was always strange. Different. He had trouble understanding social queues and people’s emotions. Many have gotten mad at him for not understanding a certain facial expression or simple word uttered under one’s breath. He didn’t understand small-talk or any type of inconsequential conversation though he’d learned to engage in it from time to time to avoid being a complete outcast.

Remy’s bedroom was magnificent.

There was a bit of lavender in a little vase on the nightstand, all sorts of different types of nightlights, an array of coffee cups and photo after photo covering the walls. Most of them were of Remy and their boyfriend Emile.

Kissing, smiling, hugging, Remy carrying Emile on their back, holding hands, wearing goofy outfits.

Logan was struck with jealousy. He wanted that. And knowing he’d never have it made him want to cry which in turn made him awfully nauseous and he sat on the floor, curling up into a ball.

He sat like that for a long time before Remus found him, shutting the door as quietly as he could and sitting next to him. “Lo-llipop? Are you okay?”

“I’m incapable of love.”

“Oh, wow, okay, getting straight to the point.” Remus chuckled. “Why do you think that?”

Logan listed all the things wrong with him without ever pausing for a breath or noticing how Remus’ eyes widened and he set his drink aside to grab his hand.

A long nail dug into his skin as Remus squeezed tightly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I get it, Logan. Really. I’m just chaos wrapped up in a sexy meat-suit.”

“That was a disgusting metaphor.”

“I know! That’s what I’m saying! I have no clue when not to talk about shit! Or what people might not want me to say! I just wing it. Usually backfires.”

Logan smiled. “You are incredibly honest.”

“That’s one way to put. Another would be bat-shit crazy, insane, psycho, sick, twisted, rude-ass bitch, unlovable, monster. All of those things I’ve been called my whole life.” Remus wore a solemn expression Logan didn’t think suited his face at all. He wanted to remove it. He wanted Remus to smile.

“I don’t like it when you do that.”

“What?”

“That expression. I don’t like to see it on your face.” Logan frowned. “I want to change it.”

Remus smiled then and Logan mirrored it. “Is this better?”

“Yeah. I like it when you smile. And I don’t think you’re any of the things people call you.” He said, griping Remus’ hand even tighter if possible. “I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you too.” Remus replied.

And it was easy. Remus leaned forward first and Logan found himself moving as well, knowing exactly what to do. When their lips brushed, gently at first, he inhaled sharply, pulling Remus closer a bit too harshly. The other just laughed, struggling to kiss him properly through the giggles overcoming them both.

Logan, dazed once they pulled away, mumbled, “Screw conventional human interactions.”

“Screw ‘em.” Remus replied with a wicked grin. “So…you wanna make out?”

“That does sound like a reasonable activity right now, yes.”

“Great.”

“Now that we’re friends again-…” Roman began once they settled on the couch in his dorm.

“Don’t push your luck.” Virgil warned him but he was smiling.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were so anxious in rehearsal?”

Virgil’s smile faded as did the butterflies in Roman’s stomach. Something wasn’t right. “Virge? Did something bad happen?”

“N-no, it’s- no. Nothing bad. Just new. And scary, and unpredictable. And horrifying and really really really dangerous and-…”

“Hey.” Roman placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I wrote a poem.” Virgil blurted then, covering his face with his hands, “And I entered a contest with it.”

“Really? I didn’t know you wrote.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Friendo.”

Roman laughed then, hearty and melodious, making the weight on Virgil’s chest a little lighter.

“Can I see it? The poem, I mean.”

Virgil went even paler which Roman didn’t think was possible. “I’d rather you not, is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” It stung a bit but Roman knew it would take work to gain Virgil’s trust. And being trusted by Virgil would be an honor because he would be giving Roman something he didn’t offer very many people.

Virgil’s trust was worth waiting for.

“I’m sure you’re gonna do great.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah right. I-I, uh, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“They’re gonna announce the winner tomorrow at the assembly. And I know you never go to those but I don’t wanna be alone and me and my friends aren’t on the best terms right now so I was wondering if maybe perhaps in some way for some reason you’d want to come with me.”

“Jeez, did you even breathe?”

“Nope.” Virgil replied breathlessly.

“Of course I’ll go with you.” Roman side-hugged him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I missed being your friend.”

“Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t stand you for an entire year.” Roman said sheepishly.

“S’fine, I couldn’t stand you either.”

“That’s what all good friendships are based on. Hating each other.”

Virgil chuckled then and leaned further into Roman. “Yeah, sound like a very healthy relationship.”

“Patton, honey, could you get the door!” His mom called from the kitchen.

He bounced down the stairs and opened up the front door to find D.C. standing there with tears streaming down his face and a suitcase in his hand.

“I ran away.” He said shakily. “I’m sorry. I should leave, this was stupid I just- I didn’t know where else to go but I can- I’ll leave.”

Before he could turn around, Patton grabbed the suitcase and then his arm, pulling them both into the house.

It smelled like cookies and love, D.C. noticed. And it was so incredibly warm. He cried harder.

“Why is it we only ever talk when you’re crying?” Patton smiled sadly, Pulling D.C. in for a hug.

D.C. sniffled, holding on to Patton like a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. “Because you’re the only person in the world who won’t laugh at me.”

It was so raw and honest, D.C.’s voice, and it made Patton’s heart clench painfully. D.C. was a perfect vision of smug elegance around other people, smooth and sly, never showing a hint of emotion on his scarred face.

It never hit Patton how hard that must be until now, to pretend you feel nothing. He was a very emotional person since birth and found it impossible to hide any, let alone all, of his emotions.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know? People will like you for who you are. You just have to show them who that is.”

“Easier said than done.” D.C. remarked with a hint of that familiar darkness in his voice.

“I know.” Patton’s voice was incredibly soothing and D.C. had to stop himself from whining when he pulled away from the hug, already missing the warmth of his arms.

“I’ve always been so jealous of you.” D.C. blurted. Well, no turning back now so he might as well continue. “Of the way you can just be yourself so freely and wear all your feelings on you face with no fear of judgment. Hell, my own brother loves you more than me exactly because of that.”

“Brother?”

Fuck.

“U-Uh.”

“You have a brother?”

Shit.

“Y-yes.”

Stop talking, D.C.

“Who?”

Don’t you dare.

“Virgil.”

Crap.

Patton’s eyes widened. “But your last name…”

“Virgil changed his name the moment he turned eighteen. And he ran away from our parents. He just didn’t remember to take me with him.  
He didn’t want anything to do with our parents or with me. I guess it brought back too many memories. I tried to create that stupid club so we could talk in private without anyone else overhearing since that brooding asshole refused to meet outside of school  
but it just turned into us screaming at each other.” A dam broke, D.C. lost his filter, falling back into Patton’s open arms. He was so tired of holding it all in.  
“It was so unfair. He got to escape and that only made mom and dad monitor me 24/7 so I wouldn’t follow him. He got his happy ending and he just left me there to suffer alone.”

“What changed now? How’d you manage to get away?”

D.C. shrugged. “I jumped out the window. I think I twisted my ankle.”

“D.C.!” Patton squeaked, “Mom! Can you come to the living room please!”

“What is it Hun?” She appeared in the doorway and she was so gentle in her voice and face, soft and loving in a way D.C. had never seen.

He made a wounded noise in the back on his throat and she was by his side in an instant. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Patton, who is this?”

“A friend from school. Life’s kinda sucky for him at the moment.”

D.C. jumped at the word friend and then laughed at Patton’s explanation. “Are we really friends?”

Patton’s mom clicked her tongue, looking at him with such heartbreak.

“Maybe not yet but I’d like to learn to be your friend. If that’s what you want.” Patton told him with a shy smile.

“And you can stay here as long as you want.” His mom added. “I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you.” She fluttered out of the room.

“No.” D.C. shook his head. “This is too easy. It’s too perfect. Why is it so easy? Something has to go wrong.”

Patton sighed sadly, eyes brimming with tears. “I think you’ve had enough hard times in your life. Let it be easy for once. You’re allowed to have nice things. You’re allowed to be happy without paying for it.”

D.C. nodded, his glassy eyes wide with wonder and incredibly pretty in the soft lighting of the living room.

“Thank you, Patton. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I’ve been an asshole to you and everyone else so many times. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Patton smiled at him. “It’s clear you’re in pain. We’ve all made mistakes, trust me. What’s important is you apologised. Just try and be yourself from now on, okay? Because I like him much better than whatever persona you used to put on.”

“Okay.” D.C. could only nod. “Okay.”

“And the winner is….”

Virgil shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip in preparation for the inevitable disappointment of losing.

“Virgil Procella!”

What?

He was getting up then, walking up to the stage all the while still being frozen in his seat, staring at himself.

He took the prize with shaky arms.

What returned him to his body was the teacher saying, “And now, Virgil if you would be so kind as to read you poem.”

“O-oh, uhm- I-…”

Roman was looking at him from the audience with a beaming smile, so full of pride and genuine excitement. He gave him a nod and thumbs up.

And, suddenly, Virgil could do anything.

“Uh, it’s called Brownies and Flames.” He said, voice still a little shaky.

“You’re sweet  
Addictive  
Your eyes are warm  
Like melted chocolate

You’re burning  
Dangerous  
Your eyes are amber flames  
Like the sun but twice as bright

You’re soft  
Your curls sway gently in the wind

You’re brilliant  
Your wild hair falls perfectly across your face

You’re a blazing fire  
You calm me

You’re as sweet as sugar  
You unravel me

You’re like brownies and flames  
I want you but I fear you”

Clapping erupted from the audience but all Virgil could look at was Roman with his brownie-colored eyes and the burning passion within them.

Once the crowd cleared out, Roman was easy to spot. “Hey.”

“Virgil!” Roman hugged him tightly. “That was amazing!”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it.”

The slight flush on Roman’s cheeks made Virgil want to write another poem just about that.

“Do you wanna, uhm, go somewhere? To celebrate?” He asked and Virgil’s heart stopped and then twisted into a knot so deliciously painful.

“I’d love to.”

“Virgil?!”

“D.C.?!”

“Remus?!”

“Roman?!”

“Patton?!”

“Logan?!”

The amazingly stereotypical diner was filled with shocked gasps.

D.C. and Patton were sitting at the bar sipping on milkshakes, Logan and Remus just about to sit at one of the tables when Roman and Virgil walked in.

For a moment they just stared at each other in stunned silence.

Then, dragging a few more chairs to the table, Remus screamed, “Triple date! It’s a date threesome! Let’s do it!”

Patton and D.C. looked at each other and shrugged, joining them.

“You okay with this?” Roman whispered.

Virgil nodded. “Just…hold my hand.”

And so they sat at the table as well.

“Hey, did you guys know D.C. and Virgil are brothers?”

“Patton!”


	2. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood, cursing, dissociation, panic attack (let me know if i missed any triggers)

The guest room of the Miłość family was cozy and incredibly warm.

The walls were covered in flowery wallpaper, everything a gentle shade of baby pink, with white accents scattered across the room such as a fluffy carpet and lacy curtains.

There was a bed with two bedside tables, each of which contained a simple white lamp.

There was a small desk and the rest of the walls were lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of genres from YA to an encyclopedia on cats.

D.C. bit his lip in thought as he distributed his underwear into the drawers of the dresser by the door.

His other clothes were already hung neatly into the closet next to it by Patton's mother.

She was so sweet.

There was a plate of cookies on the desk when they returned from the diner and a little note which, in incredible handwriting, read, _“Welcome, dear! I hope you like chocolate chips! I didn't know what else to bake and cookies have always been my specialty. The secret ingredient is love._ _J_ _I wanted to let you know you can stay here for as long as you want. I don't know what happened with your family but both me and my wife are here for you if you need someone to lend a motherly shoulder to cry on._

_With love, Magdalena Miłość <3”_

He had tucked it into his backpack with care, wiping a tear from his already stained cheek.

It was Patton's voice that brought him back. “D.C.?”

“Hey.”

“I…I just came to say goodnight.” Patton smiled, his face tinted a light pink that matched the wallpaper.

“Oh. Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

It was so awkward.

Laying down and sinking into the soft pillows, D.C. thought about how he’d never had anyone to make him feel awkward before. Not in the way Patton did.

He didn’t necessarily hate it.

“I’m impressed, Virgil. You’ve made some great progress.” The drama teacher complimented as Virgil and Roman descended the stage followed by the rest of the students.

“Thanks.”

“I hope you’ll consider auditioning for the play.” She smiled at him. “Of course, you don’t have to but I think there’s some great potential in you. Consider it.”

She left then and Roman turned to Virgil excitedly. “And?”

“And what?”

“Are you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna audition for the play?”

“I barely got through reading my poem out loud in front of that many people, there’s no way I could handle an entire play with an even bigger crows.” Virgil said, sounding disappointed. “I don’t have the privilege of just _doing_ things, Ro.”

Roman took his hand, a gentle gesture they’d both begun to use more and more frequently since the diner, as a show of support.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“Procella?” The drama teacher rushed back in, her expression one that made Virgil’s stomach bubble with worry. “Your parents are here.”

The world crumbled around him and not even the weight of Roman’s hand was enough to pull him back as he gasped shakily, following the teacher in a haze.

Mr. and Mrs. Schutz stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed and faces stern.

Virgil struggled to straighten his spine and lift his chin in a way he knew always made them nod in approval.

“Your brother has run away from home and we haven’t heard from him since yesterday night.” His mother didn’t bother looking at him, instead busying herself with staring at her polished shoes.

“And? What am I supposed to do?” Virgil grumbled, shrinking under his father’s disapproving gaze.

He didn’t notice Roman run up behind him.

“Since he’s decided to follow in your footsteps, for whatever reason, I thought you’d know where he was hiding.” His mother went on, eyeing Roman from head to toe with an expression that made said boy fix his hair subconsciously.

“I don’t know where he is.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that? After everything you two have done?” She scoffed.

Roman took notice of the way the mother did the talking while the father stood back like a brooding statue, intimidating in way he didn’t know was possible from a man who didn’t speak.

“I don’t care what you believe. I’m just telling you what I know, and I don’t know where D.C. is.” Virgil shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes cast to the ground.

Roman placed a hand on the small of his back but Virgil couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything apart from his heart hammering against his ribcage.

“Virgil, I will ask you one final time. Where. Is. Your. Brother?”

“He said he doesn’t know.” Roman wasn’t sure where the words or the determination came from. All he knew was he was now standing in front of Virgil, rudely close to his mother’s face. “And if he says he doesn’t know, that means he doesn’t know.”

“Listen.” The woman scoffed. “I don’t know who you think you are but this is a family matter.”

“I am his family.” Roman heard the low growl and the threat behind it but he didn’t recognize the voice, barely registered it leaving his mouth.

The teacher shifted uncomfortably on her feet, glancing between them for a moment longer before fixing her tie and gently pushing Roman back to stand before the parents.

“I’ll make sure all of our students are inquired as to the whereabouts of your son and will let you know as soon as we find out anything. That’s all I can offer you without involving the poli-”

And suddenly the mother’s voice was an octave too high and noticeably uncertain. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. There’s no need for police. He’s nineteen, I’m sure he’s okay. Just- Just call us if you find anything out.”

She ushered her husband out of the building then.

Virgil felt like he was going to throw up and if it wasn’t for Roman’s arm around his shoulder he probably would’ve fainted.

The teacher faced him, grasping his shoulders firmly. “Do you really not know where your brother is?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Do you think I should let your parents know what the other students say? Because, legally, your brother is no longer dependent on them. I have no obligation to let them know.” Her eyes were ablaze, the intense gaze burning Virgil’s skin.

He shook his head again. “Let him be. Please, just let him be.”

And that’s when both the teacher and Roman realized Virgil was somewhere else entirely, his body present but his mind trapped in some horrific distant memory where he pleaded over and over, “Let him be. Just let him be.”

The teacher gave a solemn shake of the head before patting Roman’s shoulder and walking away, each click of her heels making Virgil flinch.

“Shh.” Roman held him tightly. “You’re safe. You’re with me. I won’t let anyone hurt.”

Virgil cried out and Roman realized he wasn’t just having another panic attack. No. This was complete and utter heartbreak pouring down his pale cheek and the noises slipping from his lips were of nothing but pain.

Roman held him that much tighter and Virgil clutched onto his shoulders, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He was shaking.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Roman spoke gently, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil managed to breathe in shakily and then exhale into a sob as he pulled away. “S-sorry.”

There was question on the tip of Roman’s tongue but he feared asking it would shatter the fragile creature before him completely.

Storing it away for later, he took Virgil’s hands in his own. “Never apologize to me for having feelings. Okay? And if you need to cry don’t apologize for that either. I wasn’t here for you once, I’m not doing it again.”

The other nodded, wiping his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Thank you, Ro.”

“Of course.” Roman smiled but there was a bitter taste of worry on his tongue, one of fear the likes of which he had never felt.

“Remus!” Logan gasped in outrage but he was grinning as Remus trailed kisses down his neck while he tried to button up his shirt.

His boyfriend smiled wickedly, biting his ear.

Shuddering, Logan pulled himself away. “I have to get to class.”

Remus pouted, his crimson lower lip jutting out in the most sinful of ways. It made Logan weak at the knees.

“Don’t do that.” He protested. “It’s unfair.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus offered an apologetic kiss but the way he bit Logan’s lip as he pulled away suggested he was anything but.

“Your stamina is admirable.” He concluded and Remus cackled.

“I love it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Logan grabbed his hand then , pulling him out of the dorm before the bed became even more tempting.

“See you at lunch?”

“You know it.” Remus winked before making his way to class.

Logan watched him go, a calm sense of normalcy settling over him. With a satisfied smile, he headed to his next class, his step that bit peppier and the burned on his shoulders a bit lighter.

His phone alerted him of a new message.

_‘Miss Gerard is sick! Free period biatch!!!! xxxxxxx’_

_‘Lucky. -Yours truly, Logan ’_ He texted back quickly.

At last, despite the fleeting uncertainty of every moment and his awareness of the same, Logan felt as if everything was in its place.

The punch landed and there was a nasty crack before Remus even knew what he was doing.

He was walking with Logan down the hall when he’d heard the off-hand comment that made his boyfriend tense up beside him.

“Oh, look it’s the psycho and his robot boyfriend.” A vicious cackle. “Did you build him yourself to relieve some tension?”

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground straddling the jack-ass, landing punch after punch on his face, struggling against whoever it was pulling him back.

He only stopped when the jerk managed to fight back and immense pain spread from Remus' lips throughout his head as he fell back.

“Stop!” It was Logan’s sweet, sweet voice that broke through the ringing in his head as he lifted it from the floor and looked up, his vision hazy.

Before he could so much as open his mouth, Logan yanked him up by the arm and dragged him away from the bleeding mess of a bully on the floor.

Sneaking a glance back, Remus tensed.

The guy’s face was…horrible, from the broken nose to the black eye, he was barely recognizable.

Logan shoved him into the bathroom, leading him to the sink and motioning for him to hop up on it. Remus obeyed, eyes cast on the filthy tiles on the floor, brimming with furious tears.

It was when he felt Logan dabbing a damp tissue on his split lip, that he looked up, hissing at the sting of whatever it was on the small piece of cloth.

“Wha- oh.” His eyes fell to Logan’s open bag and the small first aid kit taken out.

“Does that hurt? I’m sorry.” His boyfriend apologized, biting his lip in concentration as he assessed the damage before reaching for a piece of gauze and then gently placing a piece of paper tape over it.

His cold fingers brushed under Remus’ chin, spreading across his cheek until he was cradling his face, his thumb running across Remus’ cheekbone. “Are you okay? You hit your head quite hard.”

“I’m okay.”

“If you feel dizzy or nauseous you have to tell me. Also, is your vision clear? Does anything else hurt?” Logan’s eyes were wide behind his glasses.

“I’m okay.” Remus repeated, covering the hand on his cheek with his own. “I promise.”

“Okay, good, then I can yell at you.” Logan pulled away then, pacing back and forth in front of Remus, hands on his hips. “I mean what were you thinking? I understand getting angry, that guy was an absolute jerk, but hitting him? And then hitting him again? And again? Remus I-” He cut himself off with a sharp breath.

“You what?”

“I thought you were going to kill him.”

A beat of silence.

“I would’ve.”

“What?”

Remus’ voice was a twisted sound of bitter darkness. “I would’ve killed him. For you. I’d do anything for you.”

Logan breathed out, “Remus.”

They kissed then and Remus grinned at the feeling of the blood beginning to trickle down his chin again.

Dinner at the Miłość’s was surprisingly comfortable.

Patton summarized his day at school while his mothers listened patiently despite his rambling, sometimes cutting in with a comment or chuckle.

“D.C.?” Alice, the one D.C. had only met tonight, asked, “How was your day?”

He cleared his throat, buying time to think. “I- uh, it was okay. Thanks again for letting me stay ho- uhm, for letting me not go to school today. I appreciate it.”

“Why, of course!” Magdalena smiled at him with heartwarming sympathy. “We thought you might need some time to adjust before going back.”

Alice took a deep breath and her expression went serious. “I have no problem with you staying here. There is, however, something I need to ask you.”

“Mom.” Patton complained but she shushed him, her expression determined but not stern.

D.C. shifted uncomfortably under her questioning gaze. He knew the questions would come eventually but he’d hoped to postpone them for just a little bit longer.

“Why did you run away from your family?”

He closed his eyes. It happened before he could even think properly, his walls shutting tightly around him at the sudden threat of someone discovering the truth.

He lied. “They don’t approve my choice of career. I said I wasn’t coming back until they agreed to let me do what I want.”

Alice nodded. “Alright, fair enough. I won’t tell you what to do but you should try talking to them at some point. People go through far worse with their parents. You should be thankful all yours did was disagree with your plans for the future.” Her voice was filled with a cold sort of pain, long forgotten and lived through but never forgiven.

Magdalena squeezed her hand but her eyes remained fixated on D.C., something about her knowing expression making him feel exposed.

“Could we stop questioning him on his second night here and first time having dinner with us?” Patton pleaded.

“You’re right.” Alice shook her head as if chasing away some unwanted thought. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

There was beat of awkward silence.

“Alright!” Magdalena was the one to break it, clapping her hands together. “Who has room for cookies?”

“Sorry about my mom.” Patton invited himself into the guest bedroom and took a seat on the bed. “She can be a bit overprotective.”

“That’s okay.” D.C. rose from the desk chair at Patton’s beckoning hand-wave, and sat beside him on the mattress.

“So what’s that plan they disagreed with?”

“Hm?”

“The career plan your parents don’t like. What is it?” Patton clarified.

“Oh, right, right. Yeah.” D.C. clasped his hands together in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. “I want to study philosophy. They don’t think that’s good idea.”

Patton nodded with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re like that. I think you’d make an excellent philosopher.”

“Oh, yeah?” D.C. smirked. “You think I have that ‘brooding intellectual’ sort of vibe?”

“Most definitely!” The other giggled. “Have you seen yourself? You have ‘philosopher with a dark past’ written all over your face!”

D.C.’s hand went to his scar without him noticing, tracing the winding lines on his cheek.

Patton’s eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” D.C. assured. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Unsure what else to do, Patton squeezed his hand and shuffled closer until their shoulders were brushing.

“I’m sorry anyway.”

With that, he left.

D.C. had to resist the urge to roll his eyes when someone knocked on the door yet again and Magdalena walked in, taking a seat where Patton had just been.

“I know you lied.”

D.C. froze, his entire body going numb with fear, eyes widening as they met hers.

“No, no, honey, don’t be scared.” She quickly added. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Y-you’re not?” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

Instead of answering, she floated over to the window, opening the curtains to allow for the moonlight to trickle in. “I won’t ask you why you lied nor will I ask for the truth.”

Her eyes were filled with tears when she turned to face him. “But I need you to understand something.” She crouched down in front of him, taking his hands in her own. “Whatever it is you’re going through, it’s going to pass and you’ll get to the other side stronger and wiser.”

D.C. scoffed. “I’ve _never_ heard that one before.”

She cracked a smile and shook her head. “Okay, fair. But even though you might not believe me right now, I need you to hear this. Whatever they did to you that made you feel unsafe in your own home, it’s not your fault. Alright? And if you don’t think they deserve forgiveness then you won’t forgive. It doesn’t matter that they’re your family and they can learn to be better, what you think is unforgivable will remain so if it’s what you decide. You’re in control, okay?”

D.C. didn’t respond, too stunned by the way her fiery voice broke through the cold skin of his chest, piercing right into his heart.

“Do you understand?”

He managed a nod, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

She must’ve noticed because her hand landed on the scarred side of his face.

D.C. knew, he _knew_ she couldn’t have known , and yet a part of him still felt a surge of anger towards the gentle woman as she touched his burned skin and he jumped, pushing her away.

The moment she tumbled back D.C. gasped, helping her stand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He muttered over and over before once again being stunned into silence when Magdalena wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his tousled hair.

“Shhh,” She embraced him, swaying gently from side to side. “I apologize. I wasn’t thinking.”

D.C. startled at the intensity with which a sob ripped its way out of his throat.

“Oh, honey.” She held him tighter.

It took a moment for him to regain some grip on his rationality and when he did he yanked himself away, wiping his face roughly. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offered.

D.C. sniffled, retreating back into himself, arms wrapped around his own shivering frame protectively, and he shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Magdalena didn’t persist. “Alright. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find.”

As quietly as she fluttered into the room, she left, shutting the door with a soft click.

D.C. crumbled onto the bed, hugging his knees.

Even the moon seemed to burn his skin, the feeling of a thousand spiders crawling along his back making him whimper.

The darkness was heavy as it engulfed him once he’d yanked the curtains closed.

Once in bed, he pulled the covers over his head and the dark wrapped itself tighter around his throat, squeezing until it hurt.

The sheets smelled of cookies and love. It made him sick.

Roman sat in his dorm, mindlessly pressing keys on the piano forming an unknown melody, thinking all the while of a certain emo with a past as dark as his purple-streaked hair.

Many times he reached for his phone and searched for Virgil’s name and many times he put it away again, unsure what he’d even say.

How do you ask someone something like that?

He couldn’t just casually call and say _‘Oh, hey! Remember how you broke down in my arms this afternoon? Yeah, well I’m scared your family might’ve been abusing you and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.’_

Would he be betraying Virgil’s trust if he said something? Should he be looking for more evidence? What would he do if he found it?

 _‘Conflict’_ He scribbled the title of the song into the notebook resting in front of him on the note holders of the keyboard and returned to playing that melody, a sound of a lavender storm in two orbs of dark brown, swirling with misty remnants of pain.

Virgil lived in an RV parked in his childhood friend’s enormous backyard.

Alright, so maybe it wasn’t the level of responsibility and solitude he wished he could have, but it was a start.

Besides, the family rarely bothered him if he didn’t come to them first in need of toothpaste he forgot to buy or luxuries he couldn’t afford with what little money he made working as a cashier at the local mall.

His friend, Rachelle, came by every day, however, to walk him to school and then carry on her own.

Rachelle was two years younger than Virgil, just about to finish high school.

They’d known each other since Virgil was 6 and she was 4, their parents knowing each other from high school.

She was one of the rare specimens on this earth who seemed completely unbothered by Virgil’s constant state of tension. He couldn’t remember if she was ever once annoyed with him.

“So? How was college?” Virgil found Rachelle spread out on his pull-out couch, with a bowl of popcorn and the ‘Brooklyn 99’ theme blasting from her phone.

She paused it with a groan and then sat up to face, brows raised expectantly.

“My parents came by for a visit.” He fell into his creaky desk chair.

“Shit.” Rachelle’s expression quickly turned from amused to worried. “Are you okay? What did they want?”

“D.C. ran away and they think I’m hiding him somewhere. Like, where do you think I’m keeping him?! In my underwear?!”

“Ew.”

“Sorry. Anyway they started interrogating me, well, mom did anyway, and I kept telling them I didn’t know where he was. But, of course, she just kept pushing and pushing!”

Rachelle rolled her eyes.

“But Roman was with me.”

“Really? What did he do?” Rachelle threw a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“I don’t remember.” Virgil shook his head, cursing under his breath as the tears began to gather again. “I don’t remember anything after she- after she said she’d only ask one more time.”

“Oh, Virge.” Rachelle was there in a split second, standing in front of him ready to catch him, and he let his head fall forward, resting against her stomach.

“I just- I don’t know what to do, Rusty. I keep trying so hard to run away from them but I- I don’t feel safe _anywhere._ It’s like no matter what I do or where I go, they’ll find some way to destroy it. And I-” A shuddering sigh, “I’m so scared all the time.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Rachelle’s voice was dripping with desperation. “Tell me what to do.” She crouched down to meet his eyes. “Tell me how to help.”

“You can’t.” Was the only broken response Virgil could muster.

Sniffling, she cleared her throat, looking away from him. “I know you won’t like this but maybe we should tell an adult or- I- I don’t know, call the police.”

Virgil shot up, walking over to the window. “Absolutely not. There’s no need to involve the police.”

“Virg-”

“No.”

“Virgil, listen to me-”

“I’ll say it one last time: We. Are not. Telling. Anyone!”

The RV shook as Virgil slammed his fist into the wall and Rachelle couldn’t hold in the startled yelp.

“You know what?” Her voice was thick with the tears welling up in her throat. “For someone who blames his family for ruining his life, you’re surprisingly quick to act just like them.”

“Rusty-”

She slammed the door.

The sound of it echoed like a gunshot in Virgil’s head.

_He pressed his hands over his ears at the loud noise, pressing his back against the cold wall._

_“For God’s sake, D.C.!” He heard his father’s booming voice from upstairs, “Grow up!”_

_The front door opened with a familiar creak. His mother deposited her keys into the bowl with a metallic clink, tossing her shoes and bag aside._

_“Virgil?” She frowned when she found him curled up under the staircase. “What happened?”_

_He raised a shaky hand to point up the stairs just as his father’s footsteps tumbled down followed by an array of explicit curses._

_His mother rolled her eyes. “What did you do now?”_

_Virgil didn’t respond._

_She shook his shoulders. “Virgil? You’re not too young to form sentences. Tell me what happened.”_

_He couldn’t._

_With one final sigh, she stomped up the stairs, opening D.C.’s door with an annoyed, “What did you do this time?”_

_A scream tore through the tension-filled air._

As the colors returned from the hazy grey fog they had formed and the sound of his phone ringing filled the air, Virgil rasped out, “Fuck.”

Swaying on his feet, he reached for the mint-scented candle on his dresser, holding it to his face and inhaling deeply. Focusing on the roughness of the carpet under his socked feet and the rumble of cars outside, he breathed in the cool scent of the candle, clutching it tightly in his trembling hands.

Becoming aware of his phone ringing, he reached for his bag and pulled it out.

Roman.

“Hello?”

_“Hey! I was- hold on, are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying.”_

Virgil cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

_“You sure?”_

The words almost clawed their way out of Virgil’s throat, desperate to see sunlight but he swallowed them down. “I’m sure. Why’d you call?”

 _“I wanted to check up on you. Today was pretty intense.”_ Roman chuckled a little breathlessly.

“Yeah, you could say that again.” Virgil tossed himself onto bed, his head pounding. “But I’m good.”

_“You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to but I need you to know you can. About anything.”_

“I want to talk to you.”

 _“Yeah?”_ Roman’s voice was gentle, hopeful _._

“Yeah. I just-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “I don’t know how to.”

_“Don’t ask me, you’re the poet.”_

Virgil was silent for a long while. Roman didn’t ask why, instead listening to him breathing on the other line, the slow and deliberate breaths of someone trying too hard to stay in control of their conflicting thoughts.

That reminded him.

_“I composed something. You wanna hear it?”_

Virgil nodded. He then realized Roman couldn’t see him so he said, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

_“It’s called Conflict.”_

Putting his phone on speaker, Virgil tossed it aside and closed his eyes.

All he could hear was shuffling for a few minutes before the first note rang out, a solemn and lonely little sound, gentle in its sorrow. The melody poured out minutes after, accompanying the reoccurring lonesome note, bedazzling it with the sounds of grief and pain but also of passion and beauty.

Virgil barely registered reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out his notebook and pen.

He scrambled to find the first blank page.

The words flowed with the tears.

_ Conflict _

_There’s nothing wrong with the pain, the pain I can take.  
It’s the restlessness, the breathless recklessness  
With which I push you away  
That makes me wish all of this was fake_

_If only I was making this up  
The restlessness, the breathless recklessness  
That keeps me up at night  
Was it not enough?_

_Must I hurt more before it’ll be okay?  
How much more restlessness and breathless recklessness  
Must I endure?  
I can’t find my way_

_How long is this winding path?  
Is there light beyond the restlessness, the breathless recklessness?  
And at the end of it  
Will I still remember your scorching wrath?_

_Will I ever find a cure for this conflict in the marrow of my bone  
For the restlessness, the breathless recklessness?  
And if I do  
Will I ever be able to let it go?_

Roman had the dorm all to himself.

He was the only one who actually lived in it full time, Logan and Patton both going home and only sleeping in it when there was a lot of studying or a project to be done.

That meant he could spend two hours that evening sitting at the piano, playing for Virgil, without being endlessly teased or rudely interrupted.

The soft snores from the other lines let him know Virgil must’ve fallen asleep and he stopped playing. He didn’t hang up, carrying the phone with him as he brushed his teeth and then tucked himself in, turning off the lights.

“Goodnight, Virgil.” He whispered, keeping the phone beside him on the pillow.

Rachelle sniffed into her pillow.

She knew she should never have snapped at Virgil for being sensitive about such a touchy subject but it was exhausting, watching him so torn and restless for so many years and being unable, forbidden to help.

She had no intention of breaking his trust but thing were reaching a point where she considered the option.

He said he was constantly terrified.

And that was no way to live, especially if that fear is caused by the people who were supposed to love you the most and protect you from danger.

Rachelle had known Virgil since she could walk and before she could properly talk. They grew up together and she’d hoped they’d continue to grow alongside each other forever but slowly Virgil slipped from her grip, getting lost somewhere in those shadows in his eyes.

She knew very well what his family had done, at least the parts he could get through without dissociating or having a nasty panic attack.

It was horrific and yet, when he asked her, teary eyed and frightened, to keep his secret and never repeat it to another soul, she’d agreed. Why? She couldn’t say.

Maybe it was loyalty or it was fear, but Rachelle promised she’d never tell anyone what she knew.

The burden was heavier than she’d expected.

When Virgil had run away two years ago and moved into her back yard, she’d convinced herself it was finally over and she no longer had to carry the guilt of knowledge because Virgil was out of that haunted house, safe and free.

Only he wasn’t.

He still woke up screaming, he still disappeared into the darkness his eyes held when a door slammed too loudly or a dish shattered in the kitchen. And when he disappeared, Rachelle was terrified, staring into his eyes as he stared at something else entirely, trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

She’d hold him when he returned or, if he asked, she’d leave him alone, sitting in front of the door and listening to him crying.

Giggling, she remembered how she couldn’t pronounce her own name when she was tiny but, because of her unexplainable obsession with the color orange and making ‘crafts’ out of old metal discarded by her dad after repairing a car, Virgil named her Rusty.

It was the happiest day of her life, the day she finally got a name she could introduce herself with.

She called him Viwgiy. She wasn’t very good with r’s at the time and, in her baby-brain logic, since her name ended with a ‘y’, his had to too.

Rachelle knew D.C. as well but he was never keen on hanging out with Virgil and her, keeping mostly to himself. She didn’t necessarily mind, terrified of the scar that marked half of his face.

She never knew how he got it but, again, her baby-brain decided it must’ve been because he was villain. Only villains had scars. Just ask Simba.

Rachelle later noticed that her best friend’s brother carried scars that went far deeper than skin.

Barely dealing with Virgil’s trauma, she wasn’t sure she could handle knowing of D.C.’s pain. So she stayed away, giving all her attention to nursing her friend back to happiness.

Or as close to it as he could get.

But she screwed it up.

She snapped.

And it made her realize that maybe, just maybe, this was too big of a burden for a seventeen-year-old to carry all by herself and perhaps it would take far more than a highschooler to deal with the amount of pain she saw on her friend’s face.

Conflict bubbled in her chest, making her feel as though she was being torn apart, lost and confused between loyalty and instinct.


	3. D.C.

The sun was setting. The air was warm and filled with the subtle scent of the first spring flowers as well as freshly mowed grass.

D.C. inhaled deeply as he wandered aimlessly through the park, admiring the way the chartreuse leaves swayed in the breeze.

It was the first day of spring break and D.C. was looking forward to the peace and the quiet of an entire week of blissful loneliness in front of him.

Sitting down on a bench, he had to resist the urge to laugh at the cliché image in front of him. A family sat on a bench just across from him, the mother holding a little girl in her lap while the father chased after the tiny boy that was no doubt their older son, running after a bouncy red ball.

It was a picture from a story book, one D.C. never believed could be real when he was a child.

He didn’t know there were families that actually acted like that, chasing toys and running through the park in spring, picking flowers and rolling in the grass.

There was anger beneath the nostalgia, and bitterness as he observed the family intently.

The red ball rolled over to his feet, the boy arriving shortly after in bouncy little steps.

He froze, looking at D.C. in wonder quickly turned to terror, eyeing his face suspiciously and keeping a healthy distance away, hands intertwined on his chest, shifting nervously on his feet.

The father finally caught up to him. “Don’t stare, Lucas. It’s rude.” He scolded, picking up the toy and offering an apologetic smile with a nasty dash of pity to D.C. who waved him off with a disinterested huff.

“But then again,” He led his son away. “Some people don’t have the decency not to be rude.”

D.C. scoffed.

Moments ago that man would’ve taken a bullet for the poor scarred guy with a blind eye who desperately needed protection but as soon as that same broken creature showed any kind of personality other than precious weakness, that willingness to help morphed into cold offense at the stolen opportunity to become a hero.

The mother grinned as she rose the giggling child up in the air and then brought her back down into her arms as the little one kicked her legs excitedly.

D.C. only realized he was smiling at them when the mother smiled back and stood, carrying her daughter with her.

She asked, “Can I sit with you? I can see my boys better from here.” She pointed to her husband and son still running after that red ball.

D.C. nodded stiffly.

“Thank you.”

Feeling her gaze on him, D.C. turned to find two curious hazel orbs staring at him with a gaping mouth and tiny arms reaching out.

Almost on instinct, he brought his hand up to hers, placing his palm against the girls.

She giggled.

D.C. glanced at the mother but she seemed preoccupied with watching her son and husband.

The small one managed to wiggle out of her mother’s arms with practiced expertise and crawled over into D.C.’s lap, reaching up to trace a cold little finger across the lines on his face.

He inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to flinch as to not scare the child, though every fiber of his being resisted the burning touch of her hand as she followed the marks with curious eyes.

“Pwetty.” She mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Are you a mer- mer- mermaid? Or a fairy?” She asked him, smiling widely, “I seen in a cartoon that mer- mermaids have like that on their face.”

“Daisy!” The mother finally took notice of her daughter’s antics and pulled her back into her own lap. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s okay.” D.C. knew he looked like maniac, his voice wavering and eyes watering.

“Mommy!” Daisy complained. “Don’t scare him away! Mermaimdes- wait thas not right. Mer- maids are scared of peoples. He’s gonna run away.”

“Mermaids?” The mother chuckled. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know he was a mermaid.”

“He is! You see the drawing on his face? Merma- mermaids has them like that!”

The woman frowned then. “Sweetie, that’s not a drawing.”

And D.C. wanted to punch her. How dare she? How dare she ruin this little angel’s fantasy and tell her it’s not real when D.C. would’ve breathed under water to keep that spark in her hazel eyes alive.

“Then what is it mommy?”

“It’s a scar. When people get very hurt, sometimes it leaves scars.” She explained gently. “That’s why I always get so upset when you try to steal scissors from the cupboard.”

“’Cause you don’t want me to have scar?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s pretty.” Daisy complained. “It looks like a tiger. I want one.”

This time D.C. answered before the mother could, before she could crush that girl’s soul even further, he jumped in to protect her. “You’re already pretty without any scars. You don’t need them.”

Daisy smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look just like a fairy.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t has wings.” Daisy laughed. “I can’t be a fairy.”

“I’m sorry.” The mother apologized to D.C.. “I hope this isn’t…you know, triggering.”

D.C. resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s fine. I was just leaving anyway.”

He walked away from the peaceful chirping of sparrows and the soothing warmth of the setting sun in exchange for the bustling city, jumping at the piercing sound of a car horn.

The smog-filled air weighed heavily on his shoulders as he dragged his feet across the concrete, moving in a machine-like manner, functioning purely on muscle memory.

Twisting through buildings and streets, followed by the sounds of revving motors and the smell of fumes, he held himself as if to protect his thin body from the smoke and the bright headlights.

He felt vulnerable in this concrete jungle full of predators such as pitying smiles and nasty looks. Children’s pointing fingers and mothers ushering them to look the other way.

He touched his cheek, shuddering as he found not smooth skin but disfigured patches and the rough pattern of scars.

His head was a balloon, straining, floating above the world, waiting for the last needle to be pushed into his tortured skin so he’d just pop, splattering his ache across the floor.

Barely conscious, D.C. climbed up and in through his old bedroom window to pick up the rest of his clothes and anything he might’ve left behind in the rush to escape.

He could’ve used the door, knowing his parents were working but still, there was safety in sneaking in through the window, inconspicuous and unnoticed even by the pet snake he wanted so badly to take with him.

He reached into the terrarium allowing the yellow corn snake to wrap around his arm, resting her small head against his palm.

“Hi, Belladonna.” He smiled at the animal, stroking a finger over her head. “Did you miss me?”

The snake hissed quietly, tightening her grip on his arm.

The tears overflowed and D.C. couldn’t hold them back as they poured down his cheeks.

Holding Belladonna close to his chest, he collapsed on the bed. “I miss you, you know? And I wonder every day if they’re treating you right. Are they giving you enough food?”

Belladonna hissed again and D.C. inhaled shakily.

Gently placing her back in her enclosure, D.C. fished out his phone out of his pocket and dialed Magdalena's number.

_“Hello, sweetie, how can I help? Just be quick, I’m at work.”_

“Oh, sorry, I can call later-”

 _“D.C.. Tell me what you need.”_ She cut him off.

D.C. sighed timidly. “I’m at home. I came to grab some things.”

 _“Are you okay?”_ She must’ve noticed his voice was weak, thick with crying.

“I’m fine, I’m fine but- ugh, this is so stupid but I- I was- I wanted to ask if- if it would be okay if I kept my pet snake in the room.”

Magdalena laughed. _“Oh, that’s what you were so worried about? Honey, it’s okay! Of course, you can keep your pet here! I’d be glad to know someone’s keeping you company when you lock yourself in that room alone.”_

“Thank you. So much, for everything.”

_“Of course.”_

She hung up after a sweet goodbye and D.C. felt a little lighter as he transported Belladonna into her travel terrarium and then went on packing some more clothes, makeup, a few books and shoes.

He was already halfway to the window when he paused.

Setting his things down on the bed, he peeked quietly into the hallway.

Silence.

To the left, Virgil’s door stood, locked and covered in all sorts of posters and stickers. D.C. didn’t go in there much. Virgil liked his privacy as much as D.C. valued his.

To the right was his parents' room. He was never allowed in there.

Something snapped, that waterfall of tears evaporating into steam as his body began to burn and he swung the door open, smashing a vase in the process as the door hit the dresser behind it.

Opening the closet, he began throwing out his mother’s expensive coats and fancy shoes, his father’s suits that all looked the same and all his belts. He shoved the makeup off the dresser, tossing out the socks inside it, threw the lamp on the bedside table to the floor and tore the sheets from the bed.

With a growl, he threw the family photo from the desk into the wall.

Something else shattered, something deep inside him, as their smiling faces hit the carpet in a rainstorm of glass.

He flipped off the portrait of his parents hanging in the hall before grabbing Belladonna and his bag and going out through the front door, leaving it unlocked.

Belladonna let out a suspicious hiss as D.C. wiped a hand angrily over his face, smearing the makeup further across his scarred skin.

“A snake? Magdalena, are you joking?” D.C. could hear Alice’s voice the moment he stepped in. “He’s basically moving in! How do you think his parents feel about that?”

“Love, I know, but he wouldn’t be running away for no reason.” Magdalena's voice was as soft as ever, her tone even but not indifferent.

“Of course he would! He’s a teenager!” Alice was clearly making an effort to lower her voice. “Kids run away all the time for all sorts of reasons. Not all of those reasons are good.”

“Yeah, but Alice…those scars and the way he handles himself I-”

“You’re forgetting what Patton used to tell us about him.” Alice cut her off. “This kicked puppy in our guest room is not the D.C. he’d describe every day when he came home. He’s not the sly lying bastard who manipulates to get what he wants. Has it ever occurred to you he’s manipulating us too? Hm? Patton used to hate him! What if inviting him here wasn’t something he wanted to do? What if he was blackmailed or- or tricked into doing it?”

“Alice-”

“You’re protecting a stranger over your own son.”

“He’s just a kid, Alice, and I’m not giving up on him.” Magdalena's voice was raw with determination.

“Why, though?! Why can’t you let that kid go?”

“Because if there had been someone who wasn’t going to give up on me when I was his age, my life would’ve been a whole lot easier.” She said and then D.C. could hear her approaching before he could compose himself.

“D.C.!”

He was frozen to the spot, Belladonna in one hand and his bag in the other.

Alice followed, eyes widening when she saw him. “Hey, kid. Did you- how much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, what do you think, Alice? Of course, he heard everything.” Magdalena snapped at her and then sighed as Alice pushed past her and stomped up the stairs.

“D.C. listen-”

“Don’t.” He wasn’t crying, not anymore, not when people argued, not when there was unbearable tension in the air. He promised he’d never cry again when he felt unwanted. He’d never allow anyone to make him cry by making him feel small. “I’ll get out of your way by tomorrow.”

“No.” Magdalena sounded broken.

D.C. couldn’t bring himself to care.

Patton was waiting in the guestroom when he came.

“Hi! Oh, are you okay?” He took in the streaks of golden eyeshadow and inky liner that were smudged across D.C.’s skin. “What happened?”

“I’m leaving.” D.C. set Belladonna on the dresser and Patton bounced over to her excitedly.

“Aw, what a cute snake! What’s its name? Wait- you’re leaving?”

“Her name’s Belladonna. And yes, I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

D.C. bit the inside of his cheek as the truth threatened to escape along with more tiring unwanted tears.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed down the truth, the pain, the rawness of his throat and the morals his heart was desperately clinging to.

He lied.

“I don’t need you anymore so I’m leaving.”

“I don’t understand.”

D.C. heard himself scoff. “Of course you don’t. You served your purpose as did this room but now I’ve got better things to do than bake cookies and braid each other's fucking hair, okay?”

He didn’t dare turn around, knowing his façade would crumble the moment he met those chocolate-chip eyes.

Patton sniffled and those broken shards in D.C.’s chest lodged themselves deeper into the tender flesh of his heart, stinging in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“So that’s my thanks? I comfort you despite the way you always treated me, I let you stay with me, I do my best to help you. I- I _trust_ you and I get this? I get you mocking me like you always have? You haven’t changed one bit.” He spat, using venom of his own to mask the pain D.C.’s has caused.

“I would say I’m sorry but- you know.” Shoving the last of his clothes into that small bag in which it barely fit, D.C. grabbed the terrarium and headed for the front door.

Patton didn’t try to stop him.

Magdalena watched from the top of the stairs, silent, but her eyes were pleading. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

She stumbled down the stairs at the last minute, grabbing his wrist. Still saying nothing, she pressed her wallet into his hand.

“Go if you need to but know, no matter what you told Patton or what he told you, no matter what Alice thinks, you will always, _always_ be welcome to come back.” She spoke in a determined whisper. “Take care.”

D.C. pulled himself away roughly, leaving her behind.

The farther away he moved from the house the fainter that smell of cookies and love became until he couldn’t even remember what it smelled like.

The night was horribly cold.


	4. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably publish another chapter pretty soon since inspiration suddenly struck after a while of being totally blocked. I hope ya'll are still enjoying this story because I have big plans for it.  
> All comments are welcome and greatly appriceated!  
> xx Artemis

It had been a particularly hard week.

His exhaustion seemingly unending as the days went on, Virgil lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He still hadn't talked to Rusty and she hadn't come to him, the guilt eating him alive for lashing out at her. He did have a reasonable explanation for the scene but still, she was only trying to help and he pushed her away so harshly and so aggressively.

Despite living in her back yard he hadn't seen her since that night. She probably went out of her way to avoid him.

Right then, he didn't have the will to care. He was so tired.

But he couldn't sleep. No, this was a different sort of exhaustion, one brought on by the familiar feeling of guilt nibbling on his conscience, reminding him just how many things he was to blame for.

He'd tried writing but no words came to mind, none managing to fight their way through the thick wall of white noise occupying his head.

Remembering some advice from a long-forgotten therapist he'd seen a few times when he was younger, Virgil tried to breathe slowly in and out, willing his mind into silence. It didn't help.

He tried focusing on his scented candle but even the pungent smell did little to quiet down the static.

He felt drugged, floating in an abyss of blurry faces, that feeling of guilt achingly familiar .

“Virgil?” A soft knock on the metal door of his trailer.

He couldn't find his voice.

“Virgil are you in there? Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth but nothing came, only a shuddering breath lost somewhere in the stale air he'd been suffocating in for three days now.

“I'm coming in, okay?”

And they did, slowly, on the tips of their toes, they snuck into the room and shut the door quietly behind them.

Virgil didn't look. He was scared of whoever had just breached his privacy, entered his room without being invited in.

They were going to tell him to stop sulking, yell at him for ruining everything, they were going to make him-

“Hey.” Soft and quiet, their voice was made of cotton pads.

Virgil peeled his eyes open, looking at their face blearily. “Patton?”

“Hi, kiddo.” Patton’s smile was gentle as he brushed some of Virgil’s undoubtedly greasy hair out of his face.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil struggled to make out his face, trying to blink away the blurriness.

“Rusty called, asked me to check on you.” Patton explained in that same hushed voice that did wonders for Virgil’s aching head. “You missed your first day of spring break yesterday. And the last two days of school.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No one’s mad at you, I promise. Just worried.” Patton was quick to remind him. “Tough week?”

“Tough life.” Virgil mumbled groggily at which Patton chuckled.

“I know, kiddo. I’m gonna open up the window for a bit, how ‘bout it?”

A slow nod was all Virgil had the strength for.

The warm air rushed in, carrying the chirp of birds and the sweet smell of the blooming cherry in Rusty’s yard, washing over Virgil’s feverish body in a soothing gust of wind.

Pulling three separate Tupperware containers out of his bag, Patton made himself busy with trying to turn on the electric stove that rarely agreed to cooperate.

“Could you hand me a pot from the cupboard, please?” He asked, frowning at the stove.

Virgil didn’t move.

Managing to turn on the stove, Patton let out a victorious squeal, opening the cupboard and pulling out the pot he’d asked for.

He then poured something from the Tupperware into it and left it to warm up while he headed to the cupboard again and pulled out two plates he placed onto the small table in the corner.

The sun shone through the window and onto Virgil’s face, its warmth not entirely unwelcome.

He sat up, his bones crackling audibly.

Patton clicked his tongue, frowning. “How long have you been in bed?”

Virgil looked down. “Three days.”

Anger, then something like annoyance, a hint of pity and then, finally, stubborn determination morphed across Patton’s face.

His voice held none of that, however, when he next spoke, still hushed and still gentle. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll finish warming up the food?”

“But that’s in Rusty’s house and I- we- I messed up- she-”

“They’re not home.” Patton assured, “Family road trip. She thought you’d probably want some privacy after your…disagreement.”

“Okay.”

The journey from the trailer to the house seemed like climbing the Everest.

Virgil pushed the back door open with his shoulder and made his way through the familiar house like a robot, mechanically opening and closing doors until he reached the bathroom.

His clothes were stuck to his body with sweat, his hair matted to his forehead.

There was black residue makeup under his eyes which only made them look more sunken.

Before he could shatter the mirror, Virgil peeled off his clothes and, hugging his own bony frame, stepped into the shower.

Making sure the water would be cold, he turned on the faucet, gasping as the freezing water rushed down on him, hitting the back of his neck and then descending down his spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

It got rid of some of the sluggishness in his bones, clearing up the fog in his mind.

He cried.

Then he lathered shampoo into his hair, letting out a sigh as he washed it out, the icy water cascading down his face.

The soap left a satisfying feeling of smoothness as he smeared it across his skin and he felt as though he was washing off the heaviness as he rubbed it into his stiff shoulders.

He dried off quickly, deciding he couldn’t be bothered to use a blow-dryer.

“That smells divine.” Virgil commented as he re-entered the trailer, his stomach grumbling at the delicious scent of homemade food.

“It’s my mom’s famous zupa grzybowa after which, if you’re up for it, you can gift your taste buds with her even more famous pyzy.” Patton’s cheeks were somehow even rounder when he smiled.

“Uh, translation please?”

With a chuckle, he explained, “Mushroom soup and potato dumplings. Some are filled with minced meat and some with cottage cheese so you can pick.”

“I’m not sure I can handle all that.” Virgil confessed, “I haven’t really eaten anything these past few days.”

Some of that heaviness returned, making his shoulders sag.

Patton opened his arms, wordlessly inviting him for a hug.

Unaware of how much he’d been wanting one, Virgil walked into the warm embrace, resting his head on Patton’s shoulder.

He cried again.

Patton didn’t say anything, brushing his fingers through Virgil’s damp hair and gently swaying from left to right until Virgil could catch his breath again and he pulled away. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Patton squeezed his arm. “That’s why I’m here.”

“For me to get snot on your shirt?”

“For me to let you get snot on my shirt.” It sounded a lot wiser in Patton’s head but, despite coming out a bit dumb, it had made Virgil smile the smallest of smiles and some joy return to light up his dull eyes.

“You’re an idiot.

“Born and raised!” Patton grinned, “Now, how ‘bout some soup?”

Virgil ended up managing to keep down a plate of soup and two dumplings, feeling only slightly queasy.

“Can I stay for a bit? Rusty and her family should be back soon too. The sun is starting to set.”

Virgil nodded. “You can stay.” There was a moment of hesitation before he added, “Thanks, Patton. For coming to help.”

Patton shrugged, “You’re the son I never had.”

Virgil smiled but it was sad, distant. “You’re the father I never had.”

“Virge.” Patton’s face fell. “Do you feel like talking? About what happened with Rusty, I mean.”

He knew he needed to talk about it. It was always easier when he did. The hard part was starting, swallowing down the shame and the fear and opening his mouth.

Patton took his hand, moving to sit with him on the bed. “You don’t have to.”

“I yelled at her and- I just- I freaked myself out. I sounded- just like my parents when they’d scream at me. And- I’m scared, Pat.”

“Why?”

“What if I’m gonna be like them? What if I’m gonna have kids and I’m gonna be as awful to them as my parents were to me? I don’t- I really don’t wanna be like my parents.”

“You’re already not.” Patton told him but Virgil shook his head.

“That’s what you think. But look at me,” He pointed to himself, shaking, “I’m so much like them it terrifies me, Patton. The way I get mad, how harsh I am, how I push people away- every part of them I see in myself, I hate from the bottom of my soul.”

Patton’s eyes filled with tears now too and he held even tighter onto Virgil’s hand. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Patton knew to some extent that the Schutz’s weren’t the best of people, but he’d never been trusted with the details of what led to Virgil’s and eventually D.C.’s escape.

He wasn’t sure who to blame, who to believe.

“Well, I’ve known you for two years now and there is not a single part of you that I don’t love. Even the parts that resemble your parents. Because you’re a good person, Virgil.”

“How do you know that?”

“I trust my judgment. You’re good and sweet. Just a little rough around the edges.”

“Would it be okay if I felt really heavy and then said something really teenager-y and dumb to change the subject because I’ve done enough crying today?” It was a messy, slurred together sentence but Patton understood. He always understood.

“Sure.”

“I think I have a crush.”

“Oh my gosh! On who? And I swear if you don’t tell me I’ll be the first known human being to die of curiosity.”

Walking home, Patton’s smile faded.

D.C. wouldn’t be there. And Alice would be tense, frowning as she and Magdalena still hadn’t spoken since yesterday.

The guest room would be empty and Patton would remember last night, the hurt he’d felt and he’d realize, startling, that it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did to watch D.C. leave.

_“I don’t need you anymore so I’m leaving.”_

_“You served your purpose as did this room but now I’ve got better things to do than bake cookies and braid each other’s fucking hair, okay?”_

Where had he gone? Why did Patton even care after all he’d said to him?

D.C. used him as pawn just as he did so many others. He’d needed a place to stay and he knew Patton wouldn’t be able to say know.

And now he’s moved on and Patton was left standing on his front porch, flicking on the light so he’d be able to find his way back


	5. The twins pt. 1: Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to correct me if you see any mistakes in the sentences in italian, I tried my best to use reliable translators but if there’s anything wrong, don’t hesitate to let me know

Roman couldn't wait to go home for spring break.

He lived on the very outskirts of town, somewhat of a countryside, in a big family house, so travelling every day from college and back when there were dorms available would be ridiculous. He couldn't wait to be back home even if it was only for a week.

Alto, their german sheppard, woofed excitedly, running at him the moment he opened the fence, jumping on him.

Roman cradled his head with a grin, kissing the top of it. “Hey! Did you miss me? Did you? Oh, yes, you did! Yes, you did!”

Alto licked his face, his tail wagging as he followed him into the house.

It was peacefully quiet meaning Remus had yet to arrive.

“Papà? I’m home!”

“Roman? That you?”

“If I were Remus you’d know! Something would already be in flames!”

His dad descended the stairs as gracefully as any other 50-year-old actor would, wrapping Roman up in a bone-crushing hug. “Bentornata a casa, mia stella di Broadway.”

“Hi, dad. You know I was only gone like three weeks?”

His father laughed, “I know, I know, but I miss the times when the house was full of laughter and kids running around.”

Roman squeezed him tighter. “Well, I promise you, after this week is over, you’ll be happy to get rid of us.”

The front door swung open.

“Speaking of…” Roman stepped aside to allow Remus to suffocate their dad in his embrace.

“Logan?!”

The boy lingered awkwardly by the door, fiddling with his tie. “Hi.”

“Logan?” Their dad peeked from behind Remus’ shoulder, “Who’s Logan?”

Logan waved. His hand was shaking.

“Daddio, this is my boyfriend. He lives alone and I hate that so I thought he could stay with us for spring break instead of being all by his handsome self.”

“Mr. Sognano.” Logan seemed to gain back the control of his limbs and he shook their father’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“A tie and button-up shirt, no tattoos or piercings and he has manners? Remus, are you sure this is your boyfriend?”

Remus stuck his tongue out at him. “Very funny dad. But he is. Opposites attract and all that, y’know.”

“I suppose. Lovely to meet you Logan, and feel free to call me Marco.”

Logan nodded somewhat stiffly. “Alright. Um, I hope I’m not intruding. I told Remus to call in advance but he insisted it be a surprise.”

“It’s fine!” Marco smiled warmly. “This house has been too empty for too long.”

Roman looked off to the side, his eyes landing on a picture on the wall.

A family portrait.

He looked away again, blinking away the memories starting to surface. “As long as you two keep things quiet, I have no problem with you staying here.”

Logan blushed bright red from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. Remus wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek which made him turn an even darker shade of crimson and Roman was pretty sure he was going to faint when Remus said, “No promises.”

They rushed upstairs then, leaving Roman and Marco alone again.

“So? What do you think?”

Roman let his mind wander over the thoughts for a bit before answering, “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“You think he’d hurt your brother?”

Roman sighed, frowning at the now empty staircase. “It’s not Remus I’m worried about.”

He tried facetiming Virgil but the other didn’t reply. Patton was unresponsive as well. 

Roman was bored.

Judging by the sounds coming from across the wall, Remus and Logan were keeping themselves entertained.

He’d need to make his own fun.

The nostalgia tasted bittersweet, trudging through the house with wide eyes in search of something to entertain his tireless brain.

There were still traces of crayon on some of the floors and walls from his previous adventures of seeking fun by himself.

There were little artifacts all over the house, reminders of a time long since forgotten in the busy life of a college student.

Like the dent in the wall his head had left when him and Remus decided it would be a good idea for Remus to use him as a ram to knock down ‘the gates of the castle.’ They missed the ‘gate’ by a couple of inches and Roman ended up at the hospital with a minor concussion.

Photos lined the walls.

A collage of their old summer vacation caught Roman’s eyes. He laughed at the photo of Remus eating sand at the beach.

There was another of their dad desperately trying to get him to stop.

The next one of him biting their dad’s finger with Roman and their mother laughing in the background.

His throat tightened.

There was one more photo of their mother at that beach, her hair dark flowing as beautifully as the waves behind her.

Engraved in gold cursive in the picture frame, it read, _In loving memory of Alessia De Luca Sognano._

There were no more pictures of her after that but of Roman and Remus and occasionally their father.

Those pictures were few and far between.

Alessia was, after all, the photographer of the house. Without her, even taking pictures didn’t feel the same anymore.

“Roman, have you seen my- oh.” Remus peeked out from his room in search of his phone but cut himself off when his brother faced him with glassy eyes, clutching a picture of their mother.

“It’s fine.” Roman sniffled, wiping his face, “I’m fine. What did you need?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Remus, for once, remained serious, taking the photograph from Roman and placing it back on the wall. “It’s okay to miss her, Roman. I do too.”

“I wish I just missed her.”

“What’d you mean?”

“It just that- I- I can’t remember any nice stuff anymore. It’s like all of the beautiful memories I had of her have been erased from my brain and now all I think about is those horrible-” A whimper cut his sentence short.

“It’s really fucked up, isn’t’ it?”

Roman chuckled thickly. “Yup. Fucked up beyond repair.”

“Hey, dad?” Roman entered the living room, approaching his father in careful steps.

It was 2 am but his dad was awake as per usual, staring at the TV in hopes it would chase the nightmares away.

“Hm? Ro, it’s late. You should be sleeping.”

“Could I have the key for mamma’s room?” He asked, cringing as he awaited the response.

“Why?”

“I haven’t been in there. Not since she-... You said I was too young, that it would upset me. I think I’m old enough now.” Roman said.

“Figlio,” Marco looked up at him with damp eyes. “You might be older but you’re still a kid. And I don’t think you’re ready.”

“But, dad-”

“I said no, Roman. Not yet.”

“Sei così egoista, lo sai?”

“Oh, you’re going italian on me?” Marco rose from the couch. “How exactly am I selfish?”

There was a fiery sort of temper to his son he’d inherited from none other than his mother, that stubborn flame in his eyes, the passion in his voice.

Marco was terrified of how similar he was to Alessia. Terrified of how unbearable it made it to look at him.

“You think you’re the only one entitled to the memories of her. You think you’re the only one who’s allowed to mourn her and that’s so fucking selfish!” Roman screamed, embracing the anger before he could give in to the sorrow.

“Roman, there will be no cursing in my house!”

“Your house?! Since when is this _your_ fucking house?! Because it used to be _our_ house! It used to be _our_ family but you know what it’s never been?! It’s never been _my mother_. It has always, since the moment she died, been _your wife_!”

He ran out of the house without waiting for a response, slamming the door behind him theatrically.

It was a stupid unnecessary scene and he knew it was not the right time nor place for that argument but he couldn’t help himself. Being cooped up in the house, as much as he loved it, never did him any good.

Every weekend they’d spent here was the same.

He’d come home excited to see his dad and the dog and to sleep in his old room but then he’d pass the pictures on the walls and the locked door at the end of the hall and all of that happiness would sink, weighing down in the pit of his stomach.

But the weekend would be over soon and he’d run back to the bustling noisy city, back to studying and stressing over exams and he’d run away from the haunted memories of that house he still loved so dearly.

There was no eagerly awaiting Sunday this time, there was no running away, for it was only Wednesday.

Logan, woken by yelling from downstairs but wanting no part in a family argument, looked out the window, watching as Roman disappeared into the back yard and then turning his attention back to the starlit sky.

Remus was sound asleep, snoring quietly, his arms wrapped around the covers to replace the void Logan had left when he got up.

The bloodied face of that bully flashed through his mind accompanied by the horrific image of Remus' face contorted in pain, his busted lip oozing red.

He had never felt that type of fear before.

It horrified him that the moment he saw blood on Remus’ face and pain in his eyes, the rest of the world faded into red and all he wanted to do was murder however it was that caused his boyfriend’s turmoil.

There was rage simmering under his skin and rage boiling in his gut that he didn’t know how to control, wasn’t sure he could if he tried.

Remus had awoken something primal in him, something wild and purely instinctual, something that cared not for reason nor logic. The fear was a thrill not entirely pleasant as Logan learned there was more to him than he’d thought.

Logan cared for Remus far more than he was prepared to vocalize but there was a part of him, the part still capable of rational thinking even when Remus’ mouth made him forget everything in the most wickedly sinful of ways, that sounded the alarms, trying to convey to the awestruck Logan that something didn’t feel right.

“Lo-llipop? You okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan smiled, setting his glasses back on the nightstand and crawling back into bed. “I just needed some air.”

“Are you sure?”

Contrary to popular belief, Remus was far from stupid and nothing if not perceptive. Especially when it came to Logan.

He must’ve noticed something was bothering him.

But Logan could never tell him, would never hurt him so badly by telling him there was a part of him frightened by Remus.

Remus would never hurt him.

That’s all he had to keep repeating.

“I’m sure. Go back to sleep.”

Remus would never hurt him.

Remus would never.

He would.

He would hurt.

He would hurt others.

Remus would most definitely hurt others for him.


	6. Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! I am finally back! I'm so sorry it has been fifteen decades since I uploaded a new chapter I was going through a really hard time. My grandmother passed away recently and then this whole quarantine did a toll on my mental health but I'm better now and I'm back and excited to write! More chapters coming your way asap!

Patton used to love spring break. It was a time for going outside and hanging out with his friends without the worries of school heavy on his shoulders.

This wee, however, D.C. was gone, Virgil asked to be alone, and Roman, Remus as well as Logan went to the Sognano's.

No one asked Patton if he wanted to come along.

Magdalena had been planning a family trip but, with her and Alice still not talking to each other except about the groceries and necessary bathroom supplies, it was unlikely that it would happen.

He sat in his room, headphones plugged in but no music coming from them. No songs seemed to chase away the loneliness.

He wondered if this was how D.C. felt all those years when he'd walk the hallways alone, Virgil and Remus always near but never there. Never there for him.

Some spiteful part of Patton wanted to say D.C. deserved it. The compassionate loving majority of him knew that wasn’t true.

At last, when he was too close to crying, Patton decided to distract himself.

He ran, two steps at a time, down the stairs and traversed into the kitchen which was, luckily, empty.

Tying an apron around his waist, he grabbed his favorite cake recipe from the little wooden holder on the counter and got to cooking.

It took a decent amount of hours before Alice and Magdalena were too tempted by the sweet smells coming from their kitchen not to come downstairs.

The table was set, all their best dishes and the wine glasses they saved for guests. The food on the table was steaming and the cake on the counter nearby looked divine.

The stew Magdalena immediately recognized as bigos was already cooling in their plates and the meatloaf and baked potatoes reminded Alice of her old house in Michigan and the way her father always used to make it for her when she was in a bad mood.

Patton stood by the table, a beaming smile full of pride on his face that smushed into a giggle when Magdalena pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Honey! You made all this?”

He nodded. “In our family, I figured food was the best way to get everyone in a good mood again.

Alice looked guilty, chewing on her nail. “I’m sorry if we made you feel bad, hon.”

Patton shook his head. “You’re allowed to argue, mom. You’re allowed not to be perfect.”

Magdalena tilted her head. “When did you get so smart?”

They ate and then talked and then murdered the cake and then talked some more until both their cheeks and their stomachs hurt from laughing.

All was well in the world again.

All except for the empty seat at the end of the table.

“Mag? Can we talk?” Alice asked sheepishly, standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom.

“Yeah.”

She joined her on the bed. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“Are you sorry for driving that child away?” Magdalena countered with a question and Alice’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Then we have nothing to talk about. I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to.”

“Magdalena, seriously? This is going to be our worst argument since the day we got married? Some random angsty teenager?” Alice huffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That child,” Magdalena’s voice carried darkness, a pain Alice hadn’t heard in a long time, turmoil she never wanted to hear in her wife’s voice again. “Has a burn over half of his face, which on its own is something no one should endure no matter the cause, he cried when I told him he was safe, he thought we were going to punish him for lying about the reason he was here. He is in a constant state of fear, how can you not see that?!”

“Oh, save me the therapist bullshit, that kid is a manipulative little asshole and the only reason he got under your skin is that he pretends another broken little lamb for you to protect. He’s playing to your biggest weaknesses.”

“Alice.” Magdalena took her hand. “He’s 19. I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to protect me from him.”

Alice protested, “And what about Patton? Who’s protecting him from someone who’s potentially bullying him? Hm? It’s not all about you and your need to be the hero, Mag. It’s about our son who needs our love and protection more than some random kid you pick off the street!”

“Alice-”

But she already stormed.

Patton didn’t bother wiping his face when Magdalena padded into his room, closing the door behind her quietly.

He was already tucked in and in his pajamas, listening to the war across the wall.

“Oh, honey.” She clicked her tongue, crawling into bed beside him and wrapping him up in a hug. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“I guess the dinner didn’t work.”

“The dinner was incredible. It really made me happy and it made Alice happy too. But I think this issue goes a little deeper than what’s solvable with food. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay I just- You never used to fight. It’s weird. I thought it would hurt less.”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I can’t help when we argue, it’s natural, I guess, but I can tell you I still love your mother very much and I know she loves me. And, most importantly, we both love you more than anything in the world. We’ll work through it and if we can’t then we’ll learn to work around it.”

“Yeah.”

“Something else bothering you?” She asked when Patton turned away from her with a displeased huff.

“I’m confused, mom.”

“About what?”

“D.C.”

She pulled on his shoulder to turn him back around to face her. “What about D.C.?”

“Well, I was mad at him,” Patton began reluctantly, “Like really mad at him. But then I heard what you just said and I started thinking and- what if they really hurt him? What if they find him and hurt him again? His family, I mean. ‘Cause I remember all those times when he’d be really jumpy if you touched him when he couldn’t see you or he’d get really angry for no reason and yell at people. And all the lies and stuff…In hindsight, it all seems more like self-preservation than manipulation. And then there’s Virgil…”

“Virgil?”

“Yeah, I went to see him the other day. He had another depressive episode. And that’s fine, I mean, I’ve seen it before and I get that it sometimes just happens but…all the panic attacks and the way he just…shuts off, sometimes. It feels like there’s more to it than just a ‘condition he had since he can remember’ as he claims. ‘Cause I know his parents were shitty but if they actually- because there’s a difference between shitty parents and abusive parents. And I- what am I supposed to do with all this information?”

Magdalena took a while to process and then hugged her son again. “You already did everything you could by telling me. Now, would you do your mother a favor?”

Patton nodded.

“Are you seriously concerned that there may be an abuse situation going on, 100% certain about your doubts?”

A nod, reluctant, but there.

“Okay. I’m gonna need you to call your other friends and have them tell you exactly what they think, what they saw or heard. Write it all down word for word. Can you do that for me?”

Patton nodded yet again but this time he said, “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“This is serious, isn’t it.”

“I’m afraid so, honey.”


	7. Of Actions and Opposite Reactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys are still enjoying this story because we're only getting started and I just wanted to apologize again for neglecting this story for so long.  
> I'm very excited for the future and I hope you are too.

Roman's phone rang, startling him out of the song he was recomposing and making him drop his pen.

He huffed angrily but reached for the device, frowning when he saw it was midnight and then frowning even more when he saw it was Patton calling.

Patton never called past 9 pm in fear of waking someone up.

“Patty-Cake?” He answered, “What's up?”

_“Hey, Ro, sorry to call so late but this is really important.”_

“It’s okay, I was awake anyway. What’s going on?”

_“It’s about Virgil.”_

Immediately, Roman’s interest was peaked, “Virgil? What about him? Is he okay?”

_“He’s fine but I think- I- It’s-”_

“It’s about his family isn’t it.” Roman finished for him, voice full of bitter anger. “I knew those assholes were no good the moment I first saw them.”

_“So you noticed too?”_

“I did. They came to the school looking for D.C. and Virgil literally dissociated. I had to look up what that was later, I was so freaked out! And his dad seemed really…odd. His mom was just plain annoying. But why bring this up now? Did something happen?”

 _“It’s- a very long story but I think we need to do something. Neither of them are ever going_ _to feel safe again if we don’t.”_

“I’m not sure. What if they hate us for it? Virgil made it very clear he wanted me nowhere near his past and I doubt D.C. thinks any different. Maybe there’s a reason they’re not telling us.”

He could practically hear Patton thinking through the phone before he finally answered, _“I say it’s worth the risk. I’d rather they never speak to me again than live in constant fear of their family.”_

Roman had to smile despite the situation. It had been a while since he’d heard that fiery determination in his friend’s voice, that love that overpowered all else when it came to making sure his friends were okay.

He said, “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

Remus’ expression darkened the moment Roman so much as mentioned the Schutz’s. He snarled lowly, eyes burning with hatred. “What about the assholes?”

“I just got off the phone with Patton and he got into a situation with D.C. and then with Virgil ‘cause he had an episode again and it’s all really fucked up but we think it might be…their parents, y’know, being abusive pieces of shit.”

Remus didn’t speak.

Roman’s heart sank into his gut because when Remus was silent that meant something was really wrong.

“Rem?”

“I’m, for once, not gonna tell you anything that isn’t mine to tell but I can tell you that if I ever saw those two monsters that called themselves parents, I’d separate their bodies from their heads and gut them like fucking fish.”

Roman shuddered. “Descriptive. Patton talked to his mom about it.”

Remus chuckled, “Who knew the little guy would be the bravest out of all of us. I should’ve said something but D.C. begged me not to and I- I guess I’m as loyal as a dog.”

Logan, who had been silent until then, spoke up from the desk chair, “Loyalty won’t do us any good in this situation. Not anymore. If Patton’s mom is planning to do something about this then she’ll need all the evidence she can get.”

Roman confirmed, “Yeah, she said to write everything we know down. I guess she’s gonna take it to the police.”

Logan nodded. “Then we’ll do precisely that.”

Patton let out a breath of relief when Rachelle picked up.

_“Hey, what’s up?”_

“Rusty, hey, I need your help.”

_“Help? With what?”_

“I need you to tell me everything you know about Virgil’s family. I know you know more than you’re letting on and it’s time we take action.”

_“Absolutely not.”_

“What? Don’t you wanna help?”

_“Listen, when Virgil told me what happened, and he told me every fucking nasty detail, he begged me on his knees not to speak of it ever again. I’m not going to betray his trust like that.”_

“I know you think you’re helping him but you’re not, Rachelle. Isn’t it worth the risk?”

_“No! He’s safe now! Why go digging through an old wound now that he’s away from them?”_

Patton groaned in frustration. “Because he’ll never truly be away from them unless he knows they can’t get to him. They already came to the school, it’s only a matter of time before they demand he comes back and then- I don’t wanna know what’s gonna happen then.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Please. We need all the information we can get. I already told my mom so this is happening with or without you.”

 _“Without me, then.”_ She hung up.

“She’s only one person. I’m sure all the others will provide more than enough evidence for a case to be opened.” Magdalena did her best to calm her son.

Patton felt like pulling his hair out. “But I know she knows the most? She’s Virgil’s best friend! I just don’t understand why she doesn’t want to help.”

“Honey.” Magdalena caught him by the shoulders to stop his fuming pacing. “What we’re getting into? It’s some very heavy and difficult stuff. And we don’t even know if it’s going to work. If it does, there’ll be police and courts and trials, probably arguments. It’s not insane not to want to get involved in something like that.”

“Something like what?” Alice appeared in the room with comedically perfect timing.

“A case. Patton agrees with me that there’s more to the Schutz’s situation and we’re going to try and open a case. The kids are gathering up evidence as we speak.”

Alice’s eyes widened and she looked like she was about to simultaneously cry and burst out laughing. “Mag, what? Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re pursuing an abuse case? It’s none of our business!”

Magdalena, startling Patton like he’d never been frightened before, shouted, “It was all of your przeklęty business when my father beat the shit out of me for being a lesbian!”

Stunned into silence, both Patton and Alice simply stared as Magdalena, after a deep breath, spoke more, “How can you tell me not to get involved when I wouldn’t even be alive had you not gotten involved with my family.”

“That was different.” Alice countered stubbornly but uselessly.

“No, it wasn’t. It was exactly the same. I wish my friends figured it out, I wish they’d gotten an adult involved because -even though you got me out of there, even though we ran away- I never got any closure, Alice. And my parents are still living happily back home and people are chatting with them and getting coffee and they don’t know the horrors that I’ve endured in the same house they now eat lunch in.   
I wish they’d gotten punished for what they put me through.  
Because I was like Virgil and D.C. too. I thought I wasn’t allowed to talk about it, that I would be a horrible person if I landed my own parents in prison  
And if someone had done it for me I would’ve hated them. Dear God, I would’ve hated them from the bottom of my heart.  
But then I’d thank them. I’d thank them like I thanked you when we bought this house, when my life finally became my own again. I’d never stop thanking them for saving me when I couldn’t save myself.”

Alice whimpered shakily, throwing herself into Magdalena’s arms while Patton just stood, frozen, watching them with silent tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Patton, honey?” Magdalena offered her hand. “I think this is a family hug.”

Sniffling he accepted and stuttered a: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not something I like to remember and I never wanted you to have to think about those things. But now you have to either way.”

Alice pulled away. “It’s not that I don’t care, Mag. I’m just…I’m scared. And I’m so tired. Tired of running and of pain. I didn’t ever want to think about something like that again.”

“And I’d never make you. You don’t have to help with this but you can’t stop me from doing it either, okay?”

Alice nodded stiffly, a visible shudder running through her. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“It’s okay, mom.” Patton did his best to sound cheery, “You can help me by driving me to the park. The guys are all coming back for this.”

“They are?”

Patton nodded.

“Okay. I’ll drive you.”

Roman picked Patton up and twirled him around the moment he saw him. “I missed you.”

Laughing softly, Patton said the same, hugging Logan quickly.

He gave Remus an awkward wave and then noticed, as he cast his eyes on the ground, that there was an extra pair of shoes next to Remus’ filthy boots.

“D.C.? What’re you doing here?”

“I called him.” Remus said.

Patton wondered how he’d managed to convince him to come.

“And I still don’t know what this so-called ‘emergency’ is. What’s going on?”

Oh.

Outraged, Roman exclaimed, “You didn’t tell him why he’s here?”

“He wouldn’t have come if I had!”

“What’s going on?!” D.C. cut in. “Remus, what did you, so _obviously_ on accident, fail to mention to me about this little meet-up?”

Everyone avoided his gaze. Everyone save for Logan who said, “Maybe we should sit down.”

And they did, at a picnic table nearby. That’s when Logan took the lead once again, paying attention to no one but D.C. “This is about your family.” He said, almost like a warning.

D.C. shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. Patton took that as a good sign.

“We know,” Logan continued, “Something’s been going on.”

D.C. all but growled at Remus, “What did you tell them?”

Before the other could defend himself, Logan said, his tone calm and collected and all the more threatening for it, “He told us nothing. We’ve pieced things together on our own and you will not blame this on my boyfriend, alright?”

A nod, shaky and uncertain.

“Good. Now, I want you to know this isn’t going to happen without your consent, okay?”

D.C. scoffed, “I highly doubt that.”

“We want to press charges.”

Silence.

Patton added, quietly, “I talked to my mom about it and she’s on board.”

“On board?!” D.C. stared at him like he didn’t recognize him, “On board with what?! Meddling in my personal life and digging up information I do not want you to know is not a fun little mission for you and your friends to go on!”

“Of course not, we just-” Roman tried but D.C. cut the sentence short.

“You just nothing. You cannot go through with this and I don’t care what you have to tell your mother who sticks her nose in places it very much doesn’t belong, but you will convince her not to do this. Does my brother know about this?”

Roman shook his head.

“Good. Keep it that way. I don’t think he’d appreciate his privacy being so blatantly disrespected by none other than those who claim to be his friends.”

Patton grabbed his arm before he could leave.

“Let go.”

“No! You can’t just leave it at that! I couldn’t live with myself if I knew all this and didn’t do anything about it!”

“All this? You know nothing, Patton! Not even a fraction of the things I’ve been through! You know why? Because I don’t want you to. Now let me go.”

Patton held on tighter and D.C. felt his breathing quicken.

He was trapped. Cornered. Surrounded.

“D.C., I’m trying to help.”

No.

Let go.

Let go.

Let go.

Let go.

Let go.

Yanking his arm away, D.C. stumbled back, eyes wide and red. “Let me go.”

This time as he ran away, no one tried to stop him.

Roman’s head fell forward, caught by his hands. “Well, that went great.”

“I say we don’t give up hope!” Patton exclaimed, fists clenched and face a mask of determination.

Remus scoffed. “Are you fucking serious? You wanna go through with it after that? It’s only gonna hurt them more.”

“I’m with Patton on this one.” Logan sounded just a shiver away from afraid as he faced Remus, arms crossed over his chest.

“Of course you are. You don’t know the first thing about people’s emotions.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You’re all rationality and logic and no compassion. Of course, you’d want to pursue the most logical and ‘correct’ option because you’re so afraid of what people are gonna think of you if you ever dare show what you truly think!” Remus yelled, red in the face.

Chuckling nervously, Roman tried to defuse the situation. “Listen, guys, I think we’re getting a little off-topic here. You can solve your relationship problems on your own time.”

The two didn’t care much for his input.

“I’m trying to be helpful!”

“Well, you’re failing miserably! Sorry to break it to you! D.C. is my best friend and if he tells me not to do something I’m not going to do it! It was a mistake meeting up in the first place.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “The one time you choose to actually listen to anyone but yourself.”

“Because this is the one time that fucking matters!”

“Guys, come on! You were so ready to help, what changed?” Patton joined in the bickering.

“What changed is that the friend we were trying to help explicitly told us to stay the fuck out of his life. Don’t you think he’s had enough of people deciding his life for him?” Remus was a raging fire, Patton a condensed body of rage about to implode and Logan? Logan was a dying ember.

“This is pointless.” He stated. “It’s quite clear we’re not going to agree so we might as well leave if you’re incapable of a civilized debate.”

Remus barked out an outraged laugh. “Do you heart the nonsense that’s spewing out of your mouth right now? Someone’s life is not material for you fucking ‘civilized debate’! He told us to stay away and we will, period!”

“Who are you to decide for all of us? Five minutes ago you were all for helping and now, suddenly, it’s an issue? I guess you’re really incapable of being reliable even in the most serious of situations.”

There was an eery pause, a silence in which Patton and Roman realized themselves to be completely irrelevant in this conversation. This wasn’t about D.C. anymore.

“You don’t know what a serious situation is, you spoiled brat.” Remus growled, poisoned memories mixing with present rage and blurring his judgment to erase what little of a filter he had completely.

“Excuse me, I’ve dealt with plenty of issues.” Logan failed miserably to hide the hurt in his voice.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, you never told me a single fucking thing about it!”

Logan glared at him. “How could I when the only form of communication you seem to be capable of is taking your clothes off and bending over?”

Another silence, but this one didn’t end. This one was filled with regret and misspoken words. This one stretched into eternity as the two walked in opposite directions, making it clear this issue was done and over with for them.

Roman stood by Patton awkwardly for a few moments before he’d had enough. “I’m going to go check on Virgil.”

Patton nodded. “Good idea.”

“Go home, Pat. We got ahead of ourselves, I think. We should just go home.”

Patton watched him leave and then, with a shake of his head, muttered, “Teenagers.”

It took everything in Virgil not to ignore the soft knock on the door of his RV.

Roman stepped in and fell onto the bed exhaustedly.

“Ro? What’re you doing here?”

For some reason unknown to the both of them, Roman blurted, “I miss my mom.”

“Oh, shit, dude.” Virgil was aware that response was less than ideal but could you blame him? He had no idea how to deal with this kind of thing.

Usually he dealt with his own crap. It wasn’t often that people chose him, the snarky unstable emo, to come to for comfort and advice.

“I- Uh, do you wanna talk about it?”

Roman shrugged. “It’s like you said: I want to, I just don’t know how.”

Virgil crawled into bed beside him, both of them on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “What do you miss most about her?”

It took Roman a while to answer, the room filled with quiet breaths and the rustle of Virgil turning to lay on his side and face him.

“I guess just knowing she was there. Somewhere. Like, even if I was away or she was on some trip for work, she always existed somewhere in the world, just a phone call away. I-I- I miss just- knowing I have a mom.”

It was a long time since he’d broken down about his mother. He was too tired for that now. The tears came but they were silent and slow like a pained exhale with which the grief resurfaced and then faded.

“I wish I didn’t have a mom.” Virgil commented, only later realizing it might’ve been insensitive.

Roman didn’t seem to mind though, giving a half-hearted chuckle and twisting around to meet those dark eyes.

And somehow, despite the unspoken truth hanging low above his head like a dagger, and the grief and pain mingling between them, unsure who it belongs to when they’re laying so close, the world stopped spinning and there was a moment of peace.


	8. The twins pt. 2: Remus: All hell has broken loose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Excessive cursing in this one and Remus related stuff such as sexual comments (No actual intercourse occurs) and some violent imagery
> 
> This is it my peeps. This is the second before disaster. Everything I've been building up to throughout this story is going to reach a boiling point in the following chapters. Therefore, I'd like to say something. This story deals with a lot of serious subjects I find important but the way they are explained and presented may not be perfect. I am 17. I'm simply gathering information from my life about things that affected me and I find important to talk about but if you've been through something like this or have information that may make this story better, please let me know. I am willing to change in order to get my point across.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

The drive back to their dad's house was silent and relatively long considering they were forced to take the bus.

Remus knew the plan would fail, he knew every gruesome fucked up detail of D.C.'s life and he was certain his scarred friend would never agree to their stupid idea.

Still, he complied.

Why?

Maybe it was the image of a teary-eyed Roman in the hallway, or Logan asking him if he could call D.C. and he would do anything for Logan or, perhaps, it was the sense of duty to his friend he had never been able to shake, only ignore.

While Remus was sprawled out over the seats in the back, Roman sat at the very front, legs crossed and arms placed neatly in his lap.

He had to scoff. As if that perfect posture and lovely clothes could hide the fact that he was so miserably broken, had been for who knows how long.

He began to wonder when they had fallen apart.

They used to be kings of the same imaginary kingdom, an inseparable duo but now they only seemed to get along if one of them was in tears.

Because Roman had been there when Remus came home sobbing, screaming, his clothes as bloody as his face and his heart shattered worse than his nose. And Remus had held Roman long in the night when he'd spent a week writing a failed novel and was then, sleep-deprived and frustrated, found rocking slowly back and forth, hair a mess and eyes bloodshot, muttering about how he was a failure.

But the moment the blood was cleaned and the tears had dried, they went their separate ways again.

That thought invited in te unwanted thought of Logan.

Remus loved the boy fiercly, he loved him dangerously. Part of him knew an emotion so intense was a recipe for disaster but he couldn't bring himself to care when it felt _so good._

They met and started dating in a whirlwind of differences that made the insane world seem normal, that made things okay again.

Remus had never been in a relationship up until then. He'd fucked, plenty, but it was never more than that. He'd never felt loved.

Then he met Logan and they sat in that bedroom at that obnoxious party. It was easy. So much easier than the over-exaggerated tooth-rotting declarations of love from Roman's stories.

They simply chose, in that moment, that they wanted to exist together.

It was the moment Remus decided he would gladly saw off his own foot for this intelligent boy with an unconventional mind different from the rest and yet different from Remus' as well.

Logan was like a gift from the gods to Remus. He was quite, prepared to listen to rambling no matter how long and unrelated and his body, goodness, his body was heavenly.

Thin and tall, he was the complete opposite of Remus' stacked muscular body. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, Roman would say, but Remus preferred the visual of just two bodies fitting together, sweaty and in love.

Enamored by the sudden image of Logan's naked body, he forgot the reason he was sulking in the back of a bus on a Thursday, on his way back to a house so haunted it was almost home.

„Boys! You're back! How'd it go with your friend?“

Roman simply ascended the stairs with a grumble while Remus gave a short and sweet explanation of: “It all went to shit.”

Marco sighed, shaking his head and mumbled, “How did you do this Alessia? How did you get them to talk to you?”

He got no response.

Upstairs, two doors slammed and then, the silence started its reign over the house. It had been like this once before and all three people remaining hoped it would never be that way again, that they’d never have to avoid eye contact in the hall or lay awake at night wondering if they should knock on someone’s door.

Marco got up with a grunt and slowly trudged up the stairs.

He went to Roman’s room first and knocked. He got no answer. “Roman? Just tell me you’re okay and I’ll leave you alone.”

Silence.

Going to the door opposite Roman’s and knocked again.

“Yeah?” Remus called out.

“Can I come in?”

After a halfhearted ‘sure’ he pushed open the black-painted door and stepped over clutter and trash to his other son’s bed where said boy was laying on his stomach, scrolling through his phone.

He took a seat. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened with your friend?”

Remus looked up, scanned his father’s face, and then turned his attention back to his phone, “He basically told us to just fuck right off and never speak of our dumb plan again.”

“So, now what are you going to do?”

Remus shrugged, “Patton wanted to go through with it anyway but the others said ‘I think the fuck not!’ and there was a big argument, Logan dumped me, and then we went home and-”

“Hold on, wait, Logan broke up with you? Why?”

Remus was quiet.

“Rem?”

Quiet again, but his eyes were damp, his expression an eery sort of peaceful, undeniably fake.

When Marco placed a hand on his shoulder, Remus jumped away, the motion cat-like his back arched and eyes wide. He pushed himself back to lean against the headboard, the firmness of it behind his back a grounding feeling.

“Sorry. I’m kinda jumpy today.”

Marco smiled reassuringly. “That’s alright, tesoro. Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes, please.”

Something like surprise, or maybe it was hurt (Remus was never very good at reading expressions), flashed across Marco’s face before he pushed himself up off the bed and quietly exited the room.

Looking at him, Remus felt a tightness in his chest. Slightly hunched over, his hair greying and shoulders sagged, his dad looked so old, so small and frail, breakable.

He started crying, as If the tears were triggered by the click signaling Marco had closed the door.

He choked off the ugly sobs clawing their way up his throat by holding onto his neck tightly and clamping his mouth shut. His entire body felt hot but there were also chills that made his body shake.

His chest hurt.

Roman giggled, trying to keep quiet, and whispered into the phone. “Stop making me laugh, I’m gonna wake everyone up.”

From the other line. He heard Virgil’s gravelly chuckle. The sound did _something_ to him and the next time he inhaled, it was a bit shaky.

_“Thanks for staying up with me.”_

“No problem. Sleeping doesn’t exactly come easy to me either lately.”

Virgil sighed. _“Y’know, my life was always pretty fucked but lately it feels like there’s an avalanche of events and everything’s just going to hell all at once.”_

“Tell me about it. One day we’re rehearsing for theatre and reading poetry and the next we’re filing abuse case- oh, fuck.”

He could imagine Virgil sitting up abruptly by the creak that came from the phone.

_“What?”_

“U-Uh, nothing. Nothing! Life’s going to shit, that’s all I said!”

This time, Virgil’s voice sent a different kind of chill down his spine. It was low and indescribable by any other word other than dark. He repeated, _“What did you say, Roman?”_

“Virgil, I’m sorry.” Roman gave up on resisting.

 _“Sorry for what?”_ The other barked impatiently.

“Patton wanted to go to the police. About your parents.” He tried to shift the blame even just a little bit. “and he got all of us together to figure out what we knew about your family. He told his mom and she told us to do that.”

Silence.

“Virgil, please say something.”

He hung up.

Shooting out of bed, Roman ran to the room across the hall, barging in without knocking.

Luckily Remus was still awake, dressed in his silky booty shorts and tank top, typing away feverishly at his laptop.

“What the fuck, Roman?”

“Sorry. Sorry, I panicked. I was talking to Virgil-”

“At 2 am?” Remus questioned with a smirk.

“Yes, not important. I told him! I fucking told him! About the stupid plan and he just hung up! I messed up!”

“Why is everything falling apart!”

As if on cue, Remus’ phone rang.

‘DeeeSeeeaaa’, it red on the screen.

Remus barely got a hello in when he picked up before D.C.’s panicked voice filled his ears.

“Remus? Oh, thank god you picked up. Virgil is on a fucking rampage! I was walking through the park back to the dorms when he passed me and- fuck- I think he’s going to Patton’s and it’s- he’s- I’m scared he’s gonna hurt someone.”

He called out Virgil’s name and Remus could hear him start running before he hung up the phone.

“What is it with dramatic damn phone calls tonight?” Remus complained, rolling his eyes before he crawled out from under the covers.

Roman asked, “Who called? What happened?”

“All hell broke loose, brother. All hell broke loose.”


	9. The Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it my dudes...this is it...  
> TW: Yelling, Very Mild Violence (No physical harm is done to anyone)

Alice jumped at the sound of pounding on the front door. Magdalena was sound asleep beside her and she’d assumed Patton was too until he burst into the room, phone in hand, hand shaking.

“Patton?”

Wordlessly, he rushed down the stairs knowing she would follow.

The door slammed against the wall the moment he unlocked it, sending a family photo tumbling to the ground with a shatter.

“What the hell is going on?” Alice caught up, eyes wide and confused with remnants of sleep.

Virgil spoke lowly, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Virgil?” Alice’s tired brain took a moment to catch up, “Virgil! You heard, didn’t you?”

Virgil’s chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “Yeah, I heard.”

Magdalena’s bare feet padded quietly down the stairs, “What’s going on? I heard noises.”

Virgil closed in on Patton who had been slowly backing away towards the wall he was now pressed against.

“How dare you? How dare you do this?! I thought you were my friend!”

Patton flinched. “I am. I just wanted to help. I wanted to protect you.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me! I can protect myself! I have been for eighteen fucking years!”

“Sweetheart, I know you-” Magdalena tried, stepping in between them but Virgil cut her off, his burning gaze making her stumble back towards her son.

“You know nothing! Nothing! All you know is how to meddle into other people’s lives without permission!”

Grabbing the first thing he could reach, which happened to be a vase with tulips, Virgil smashed it against the ground. “How does that feel, huh? How does it feel to have someone intrude in your house and start messing shit up without permission?!”

Spewing insults all the while, he barged into the living room and yanked all the photos from the coffee table as well as the mugs left on there, he pulled the pillows off the couch and tore into them, fluff spilling out.

In the dining room, he knocked over chairs and pulled off the tablecloth and another vase.

He opened the kitchen cabinets and sent the dishes tumbling to the tiled floor with a loud crash.

“Is this nice?! Does it feel nice to have someone barge in and make a mess of everything?!”

Patton pleaded, “Virgil, please. We can talk about this.”

“No!” Virgil whirled around to face him. “No, we should’ve talked about this! You should’ve asked me! Why didn’t you ask me?!”

“Because I knew you’d say no!”

Gone was the rage. All that was left on Virgil’s face now was an eery calmness. “You didn’t ask for my consent because you knew you wouldn’t get it?”

The room fell silent.

Patton tried to find an excuse, “I understand how that sound but- I- I just, I knew you saying no wouldn’t be a rational decision. It would’ve been a choice made by fear. Refusal of help doesn’t minimize its necessity.”

Virgil raised a brow, “You read that in one of your mom’s psychology books? Hm? And you learned it by heart so you could recite it to me to try and convince me some dude in some office, who spends his days trying to define things that are not and never will be universal, knows me better than I know myself?”

Someone else ran in then, panting.

D.C. stood in the doorway, quietly taking in the chaos of the house that was once beginning to feel like a home for him.

Virgil paid him no attention, instead closing in on Patton again, backing him up against another wall, cornering him, trapping him.

His movements were predatory, his dark eyes aiming to kill. “I’m all for therapy. For people who want it. And I don’t.”

D.C.’s tone was a warning, “Virgil.”

Patton shuddered as Virgil’s arms trapped him in the corner, his snarling face coming in close to say, “Stay the fuck out of my life or I’ll make you.”

“Virgil.” Again, a warning, calm and unfazed.

“You try something like this again and I swear you will regret it until the day you die.”

His raised fist was caught by an icy hand, his fuming gaze met by two mismatched orbs of nothing but cold-blooded anger.

“That’s enough.”

As quick as it had been unleashed, the fearful beast retreated back into Virgil’s chest and his vision cleared enough to see Patton shivering in the corner.

D.C.’s grip was tight but not painful. His words, however, were just that, carefully chosen and pointed.

“It’s not about the shit we’ve been through, Virgil. That has never been the point. It’s about how we deal with it. And you are not dealing at all, honey. In fact, you’re giving in to it, letting it control you.”

Fear was the only bitter taste in Virgil’s mouth and he searched desperately for a defense. The only defense Virgil knew was offense.

“At least I’m not hiding and wallowing in my own misery like a fucking snake, poisoning anyone who gets to close.”

Yanking his hand out of D.C’s grip, he ran away.

Roman and Remus made it in time to see the aftermath, what with convincing their dad to drive them, and then trying to explain to him why he needed to disregard the speed limit for the night.

Marco trailed after them into the wrecked house, realizing very suddenly how much his children were going through without him, how much they felt they couldn’t talk to him about.

Alice greeted him with a nod, Magdalena staring blankly at the shattered family portrait by the door.

Patton was on the couch, D.C. leaning against a wall in the darkest corner of the living room, fidgeting with a shard of glass in the palm of his hand.

Remus made a bee-line for him, squeezing him in a bone-crushing hug the other returned gladly, with a shaky sigh, the hot and sweaty safety of his friend’s familiar strong arms a comfort he hadn’t felt in some time.

Roman approached Patton slowly, carefully, and took a seat next to him. Hesitantly, he reached out to take his hand.

“What happened?”

Patton shrugged, a tear falling from his eye. “I screwed up.”

“Perhaps,” D.C. commented from the safety of his corner. “But Virgil had no right to do this.”

“Neither did I!” Patton protested, “He’s right! I jumped on this like a lifeline because I-”

His voice trailed off into a hesitant breath.

Roman urged him to continue, “You what?”

“When I found you,” He looked up at D.C., “In that bathroom, crying, I thought- I thought ‘This is it.’ You clearly needed help and I thought that maybe- um, maybe helping you and-and making you feel better would, uh- make me feel better too.”

D.C. narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I’m not feeling too great, okay?! I actually feel horrible. And I thought by helping you guys with this stupid case I’d feel like I did something good and it’d- it’d make me feel better I guess.” Patton wrung his hands together, sniffling.

“Aw, Pat.” Roman squeezed his hand, offering a comforting smile but it went unnoticed, Patton’s eyes fixated on D.C.’s, waiting for him to say something.

The three parents present watched in horror as the realization hit them that they didn’t know these kids at all, that there were hardships and painful things going on in their lives they either didn’t want to or didn’t know how to talk to them about.

D.C. took his time to speak, eyes scanning Patton’s flushed face.

When his black colored lips finally opened, it was to say, “Remus, can you walk me home?”

“Home as in _home_?”

D.C. shrugged, the motion resigned and tired. “I only have one home, Rem.”

Reluctantly, the other nodded. “Alright, let’s go. Dad, I’ll take the bus back.”

And so they left.

Roman wiped his hands awkwardly on his jeans. “Maybe we should go to.”

Alice saw him and Marco out.

All she offered was an exhausted ‘I told you so’ before she dragged herself back up the stairs. Magdalena followed her silently, shaking her head in disbelief of something, everything.

The world was cold and empty. Patton allowed himself a moment to wallow in the loneliness before he stood up, straightened his shirt and decided firmly that he was going to fix everything.

He was going to make everything better.


	10. The Storm 1: Logan and Remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a delight to write! I absolutely love the dynamic that Remus and Logan have acquired through my writing of this story and I really love their scene in this chapter.  
> Since I've caused quite a lot of pain according to the comments, I decided to throw in something sweeter because I'm not gonna get another chance to do so in some time as we progress into more serious territory again,  
> So, enjoy the romance while it lasts!

Virgil ran.

He ran until he could no longer catch his breath and his right side ached so strongly it had him leaning forward in pain.

Then he collapsed, sitting on the pavement as a spring storm approached, the wind blowing his hair in all directions.

He zipped his black hoodie up to his chin, shoving his hands into his pockets and pulled his knees in close.

The dishes crashing, the frame of that lovely family picture cracking and falling apart, the blazing flames in his eyes as he caught his reflection briefly in the glass of Patton's glasses, the venomous words he'd spewed, all of this spun in a whirlwind through his head.

It was as if he had been asleep or in some sort of trance, only waking up now as the freezing wind whipped his tearstained cheeks.

Shame and guilt clawed at him, biting down on his conscience and tearing it to shreds.

Painful memories resurfaced as did that fear of his own mind, his own capabilities, and Virgil choked on his breath.

After all, his mother did always yell, “God! You're just like your father!”

The wind howled.

The storm started only a half-hour later.

The darkened sky was split in half by lightning and the wind howled eerily, rain pounding against the window.

Magdalena rushed around the house, gathering candles while Patton and Alice huddled in the living room, sitting closer than necessary on the couch. The power had gone out with the first crack of thunder. Patton had squealed when it happened, pushing his laptop aside to go check on his mothers.

Magdalena had been in the middle of ironing and ushered him downstairs when they’d heard Alice curse from downstairs accompanied by the sound of something crashing.

“Fuck!”

“You okay, mom?”

“I broke a plate.”

“We heard.” Magdalena had chuckled fondly.

And that was that.

Magdalena lit candles in key places like the stairs and the bathroom and brought the rest to the living room to set them on the coffee table.

It took a while for her to pull out the stacked board games from under the TV without everything crashing to the floor but she managed eventually

She shook her head as if that would rid her of intruding thoughts as she glanced at the still wrecked kitchen, and made herself busy playing with her family.

The night was truly dreadfully cold.

Remus tried his hardest to suppress a growl as D.C.'s mother opened the door upon hearing their knock.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked quietly and his best friend nodded, eyes fixed on the woman’s frowning face.

One last question, “Should I go?” And when D.C. said yes Remus did as told, rushing to catch the next bus as thunder split the heavens and rain began to pour down heavily.

The last thing he saw was D.C. disappearing into the house he had once dragged him out of with the promise never to take him back.

A heavy weight rested on his chest as he ran across the pavement, boots squeaking on the wet concrete and his leather jacket doing little to protect him from the sudden cold. _“Stupid spring and its mood swings.”_

Remus hated spring. He hated the way it could create so many beautiful things and then destroy them in the blink of an eye, how quickly it shifted its mood, suddenly dark and cold after being peppy and bright as ever.

Logan surely hated spring too. Of course he did. Spring was too unpredictable for him.

“Where are all your things?”

D.C. toed his shoes off, noticing how his spot in the shoe cabinet was still waiting empty while Virgil’s had been filled by one of his father’s pairs of sneakers. “Hotel.”

“Which one?”

“The crappy one a few blocks from campus. I paid for two more nights in advance so I’ll pick it all up tomorrow and get the rest of the money back.”

“Who gave you the money?”

“A friend.”

“Alright. Now come and sit, we need to talk.” She beckoned him to the living room where they sat on the couch, a healthy distance away, staring forward into the crackling fireplace.

“Why did you run away?”

D.C. sighed. “You know why.”

“Why specifically?” She rephrased.

“You were gone and dad was watching TV. And I just- I had never felt more alone, mom, than in that moment sitting in my room just wondering when it had all really gone to shit. I didn’t want to be here anymore. So I left.”

“Then why come back?” She tried to hide the way her voice wavered and failed miserably. Then again, D.C. had always been the better liar. Proving so yet again, he said, “I missed you.”

He wished he could grab her by the shoulders and tell her he was doing this because it was the only way to protect Virgil and whatever was left of their family, to protect her.

If he came back things would go back to the way they were. Patton would realize there was no need for that damn case and he’d get over it. He had friends to help him do that. Virgil would go on too. Remus would never let it go, calling and texting and being an annoyance until D.C. skillfully convinced him he was okay. Then Remus would get bored and let it go too.

The woman, the stranger whose eyes were once so beautiful, his mother inhaled sharply and only said, “I’m glad you came to your senses.” Then she disappeared up the stairs where his father was already snoring annoyingly.

Hugging a cushion and curling up on the couch, D.C. hoped Belladonna was okay all alone out there in the dark, that he had left her enough food and she wasn’t too frightened without him.

Right before he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if Virgil’s RV was warm enough.

The bus stopped and people poured out like blood from a wound, leaving Remus the last passenger. Rain pounded against the windows and he watched the blurry image of the city and the trees in the distance.

The sky was a dark mass of grey split apart by strikes of light and though it was loud and violent it was glowing. It was beautiful.

_Logan woke up early, precisely at 6 am, with Remus' arms wrapped tightly around his waist._

_Remus was like a furnace. He was never cold. Logan was._

_Humming contentedly, he tucked his cold feet in between Remus' and pressed himself further back into the warmth of his chest. Remus didn't complain, hugging him tighter and murmuring, “Morning.”_

_“Good morning to you too.” Logan smiled, spinning around to face his boyfriend. “You sleep well?”_

_“Mhm, you?”_

_“I am adequately rested.” He answered, closing his eyes at the gentle caress of the morning sunshine on his unclothed back. “This is very nice.”_

_Remus chuckled, kissing his forehead._

_“Remus?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“I think we need to talk.”_

_The other leaned back then, concern replacing the dazed adoration in his eyes. “About what?” He asked nervously._

_“We haven’t been together for very long.” Logan began, running his hand absently up and down Remus’ chest, enjoying the texture somewhere in the back of his mind. “And though I’ve never been in a relationship before I don’t- I don’t think I could be as happy with anyone as I am with you.”_

_“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming my way. And not the good kind of butt.”_

_Logan sighed. “I have a confession to make.”_

_Remus didn’t interrupt, sensing Logan needed the quiet to collect himself before he continued._

_“I’m scared.”_

_Remus’ stomach sank. It was a simple sentence but it carried with it so much weight, especially for him, it made the hair on his body stand up. He felt attacked. Exposed._

_Logan must’ve noticed because he pressed his palm firmer against Remus’ chest. He said, “You told me you’d kill for me, that you’d watch the world burn, that you’d murder and destroy if I asked you to. And that’s not what scares me.”_

_He searched for something in Remus’ eyes and he must’ve found it because he scooted closer, pressing the length of their bodies together. “What scares me is not that you would do it but that I’d let you. Hell, I might join you.”_

_“Well,” Remus spoke in a low murmur, “A little fear is a good thing. Get’s the blood pumping.” He spoke in time with running his hand slowly up Logan’s leg._

_Logan smiled at him, truly smiled, eyes full of dazed mirth, and Remus realized he’d never seen something so beautiful, let alone been allowed to touch it, to have it touch him back._

_They kissed_

“Hold on, wait!” He shouted just as the driver was preparing to leave.

Grumbling under her breath, the tired woman re-opened the door for him and he fell out, scrambling to his feet on the slippery pavement.

He sprinted through streets and filthy alleyways, cackling wildly at the rain that stuck his hair to his forehead and the wind that moved it back again.

There weren’t many students on campus during break, only those who had nowhere else to go. And Logan who was supposed to spend the break with Remus.

Remus found him in his dorm, hunched over his desk, typing away.

“Logan.”

He turned around, brows curved down in confusion and then arching up in surprise as he saw Remus, drenched and panting in his doorway.

“Remus.”

Remus grabbed him by the hand and Loggan went easily, following him down the stairs and through the door out into the rain.

He shoved his glasses in his pocket when the droplets became impossible to see through.

Only when they stopped did he look around.

They were in front of a parking lot surrounded by a wire fence with a huge sign that said ‘KEEP OUT’ in big red letters.

“I’m guessing you want to go in there.” He glanced at Remus with a fond little smirk.

But Remus was deadly serious. His hair was matted to his scalp and water was dripping down his nose and cheeks in cold streams. Some of the droplets caught in his lashes, glittering under the street lights.

His jacket was tied around his waist, the green tank top underneath stuck to his skin.

He was perfect. Well, he was far from perfect but to Logan he was everything.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Remus looked as if he’d been hit. “You’re sorry?! No, you can’t be sorry!”

“What? Why?”

“You’re ruining my dramatic apology!”

Logan laughed, high-pitched and breathless. “Right, okay. Apologize away.” He gestured to the fence.

Remus climbed over it with cat-like agility and a feral grin on his face.

“Your turn.”

Logan eyed the fence. It was sharp, tall, a menacing barrier someone like him would never dream of trying to cross.

But Remus was on the other side, looking at him and smiling. Remus was waiting for him. Even though it was raining and Logan was so confused, Remus was waiting, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

He lodged his feet into the first opening and pulled himself up, the metal cutting into his palm but not hard enough to draw blood.

His foot slipped but he caught himself, the little rush of adrenaline urging him to continue.

When he was at the top and he had managed to swing his legs across, Logan sat for a moment, looking up at the weeping sky and the soft orange light signaling the sun was about to rise. Dressed in only a button-up and jeans, he was freezing. Chilled to the bone and soaked with rain, he had never felt more alive.

He hopped down, grabbing Remus for balance.

“Where are we going?”

“You know that novel you said you were writing? The murder mystery thing?” Remus asked out of the blue as they rushed across the parking lot.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“You told me one of the victims was gonna be killed in the aquarium but you couldn’t figure out how, remember?”

“I remember the plot to my own novel, don’t worry, but I’m still confused.

“Put your glasses back on.”

Logan did so after wiping them against his mostly dry undershirt.

They were in front of a locked building. The sing on it said, in cursive yellow letters, “ _Aquarium: Experience the Miracles of the Depths!”_

Remus shrugged when Logan looked at him. “I thought you could get some ideas here. And I also thought it might win mi some brownie points after that stupid fight.”

“You have to understand that I don’t think like you. And the way you jump from one decision to a different one- it’s all confusing to me. And confusion is irrational. Irrationality scares me. I don’t understand it.”

Remus intertwined their hands. “I get that. But if this is gonna work you have to learn that I am who I am. I’m literally the embodiment of irrationality.”

Watching the purple eyeshadow pouring down his face and the wild spark it accentuated in Remus’ eyes Logan breathed his realization, “That’s precisely why I fell in love with you.”

And the wind stopped howling. It sang. The rain stopped pounding. It caressed. The sun was no longer hiding. It rose.

Bathed in every shade of pink imaginable, glowing under the rose gold sunrise, Logan tilted his chin up, his lips inches away from Remus’ trembling ones.

He whispered, fearful but certain, “I love you, Remus Sognano. And I don’t care how much that scares me.”

Their lips met but it was more than just a kiss. It was a promise.

A promise to love despite the differences, to love because of them. An oath to understand and to soothe the demons. To protect. It was apology and forgiveness.

“I know,” Remus whispered shakily when they pulled away, telling himself he was shivering from the cold rain and not the intensity of emotion swirling in his chest, “that I’m difficult and I know how hard I am to be around. But I can change. I will change. I would kill and destroy and I would burns down the world for you, sure, but I _will_ change for you. Because I love you too.”

“Don’t change for me.” Logan shook his head with a lovesick smile. “Change with me.”

As they hopped over the chain and walked into the aquarium hand in hand, the sky cleared to reveal a brand new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoy my writing check out my other stories!  
> Also, stop by my Tumblr and leave a message or request a fic (I only take requests on Tumblr put I can post the fic on here too, just lemme know!) my username is xworldofartemisx


	11. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's the thing. My mental health is about as stable as a rollercoaster in a hurricane and the last few days have been a bit difficult. So this chapter isn't really where I wanted it to be but the main point gets across and I didn't want you guys to have to wait too long.  
> I might take a little break after this one though.  
> I'll keep writing but I won't post until I'm actually happy with the end product.  
> This story will be continued tho for sure! Don't worry. It just might take a while.

The hoodie did little to protect Virgil from the downpour. The water was bone-numbingly cold but Virgil was already numb, his senses dulled and emotions went from a whirlwind of pain to a bearable ache. Bearable but still, it ached.

People walked by him occasionally, paying him no mind as they rushed to find shelter from the storm, the loud cracks of thunder urging them on to run past and ignore the shivering bundle of sorrow on the side of the road. They all did so. All but one.

A car pulled up, the window rolling down with a soft whir.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Someone called out, the sound of it barely registering through the static in Virgil’s head.

“M’fine.” He replied, teeth chattering. “Fuck off.”

The car moved but didn’t leave, parking on the curb instead. His unwanted hero stepped out, fumbling to open his umbrella and approached Virgil carefully.

“Hey.”

“I t-told you to fu-fuck off!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The guy insisted. “Come on, let me give you a ride home.”

Virgil shook his head.

The stranger sighed, kept quiet for a moment and then pressed his umbrella into Virgil’s hand. “Take this, at least.”

Virgil mumbled, “Thanks.” But the stranger had already driven off.

“Oh my gosh, Virge!”

Virgil knew he recognized the voice but he couldn’t place it, eyes slipping shut both from exhaustion and the hypothermia.

He slumped against the warm body that appeared behind him, greedily trying to soak in the heat they radiated against his back.

“Come on, Virge, work with me.” They grunted, trying to haul him up.

He tried and failed pathetically to move his feet and push himself off the ground, allowing the person to drag him up and into their arms, making him stand on wobbly legs.

“Hey, hey, look at me, don’t close your eyes.” They whispered urgently and Virgil found himself trying and being unable to even lift his head, let alone force his eyes to open.

“C-Can’t.” He muttered, head lulling and landing on their shoulder. He saw a flash of white and then nothing but blissful quiet emptiness.

“Virgil! Virgil, wake up!” Rachelle cried desperately. “Please, come on!”

The boy grew heavy in her arms as he lost consciousness and they both tumbled back to the wet concrete, Rachelle yelping as she landed hard on her elbow.

“Fuck! Virgil!”

No response.

What with the time of night and horrible weather, nobody was in the street to help them.

When she shifted and heard a crack from her back pocket, Rachelle groaned frustratedly. She’d fallen on her phone.

“Great. This is great! Amazing!”

She grasped Virgil’s cold face, trying to shake him awake, “Virgil! Please, you’re scaring me!”

She shivered despite the jacket wrapped around her, whimpering desperately. “Virge…”

At last, a car drove by and stopped by them, a guy walking out with a concerned frown on his face.

“He’s still here?” He asked urgently, picking Virgil up, the two of them dragging him slowly towards the car.

“You saw him already?”

“I gave hi by umbrella around 30 minutes ago when I was going to my friend’s house. Didn’t think I’d find him when I was coming back.”

Rusty fell into the back seat, Virgil’s head in her lap and, despite knowing she just got into the car of a stranger, begged, “He needs to go to a hospital. Please.”

The guy nodded readily. “Of course! I’m Thomas by the way.” He introduced, climbing into the front seat and typing their destination into his GPS.

“Rusty.” The part of her brain not numbed by fear managed not to give her full name to this guy she’d never met.

Virgil’s breathing was shallow, barely noticeable and his skin was bright red.

Digging in her brain for what she had heard in biology, Rusty remembered the symptoms of hypothermia.

“Fuck.” She whispered, peeling off the wet hoodie and replacing it with a sweater she found in the back of the car. She didn’t bother asking for permission but Thomas nodded either way, approving of the decision.

She took Virgil’s hands in her own, rubbing them to warm them up, and curled around as much of him as she could, offering up her own body heat.

“You’ll be okay, bud.” She whispered, rocking him gently. “You’ll be okay.”

They arrived at the hospital shortly and Virgil was rushed away by the staff, leaving Rusty to sit in the waiting room with a complete stranger who looked unbearably awkward.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“Almost 17.” Rusty replied quietly, unsure why it mattered. “You?”

“31. Can you tell me why I found a highschooler and what I assume to be a college student, alone in the rain, one of them unconscious?”

Rusty shrugged. “My parents are on a business trip. His are assholes.”

“Right.”

“Why are you still here?”

Thomas shrugged. “You guys are kids. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you alone.

Stressed and suddenly angry, Rusty rolled her eyes. “We’ve managed this long without you, thank you very much.”

The man deflated a bit but made no attempt to leave, giving Rusty a friendly smile. “I’m sure you have. That’s why you deserve a little help every once in a while.”

Rusty slumped against her uncomfortable chair, running a hand through her wet tangled hair. “Do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

Thomas nodded reassuringly. “He’s in good hands. Do you want me to wait with you?” He offered gently. “It’s okay if you don’t trust me but I’d really like to help if you’ll let me.”

Rusty, tired and beyond fed up with being worried, said, “I’d appreciate that.”

Virgil came to in a brightly lit and comfortably warm room.

He was wrapped in plain sheets, his head propped up on a stiff pillow.

As his vision cleared, he saw a figure hunched over in a chair beside him, head on his bed, sound asleep. The mess of red hair spilled over his leg was undoubtedly Rachelle’s.

Suddenly and filled with regret, Virgil remembered how long ago he had spoken to her last. How he’d disregarded his best friend completely.

And she was so tiny in this bland bright room, a pile of ginger hair and socked toes poking out from under the blanket around her.

He ran a hand gently over her head with an affectionate smile. She looked for him, found him and brought him here. As always, she saved him.

And this time he’d thank her.

His touch woke her and she blinked up at him sleepily. “Virge? Virge!”

She jumped on the bed in record speed, smothering him in a tight hug.

“Hey.” He greeted, voice gravelly and weak. “Get off. You’re heavy.”

“Hey! I am chubby and cute, don’t you dare!” She wiggled her finger in his face but hopped off anyway. “I was so worried about you.”

“Yeah.” And the heaviness returned with the memories of what he’d done.

“What happened?”

“Rusty?” He ignored her question. “I- I wanna go home.”

School started again. The week had ended and with it so did the shifts that had rattled their lives what seemed like forever ago.

Virgil barely spoke, dragging himself through the halls like a shadow and, to Roman’s disappointment, he quit drama.

Roman was pretty much the same but something was heavier, there was more maturity in his eyes, his smile more measured and distant.

Remus and Logan were once again inseparable, Remus quickly becoming friends with Patton and, with reluctant agreement from Roman, moving into their dorm.

D.C. and Virgil lived at home again anyway so it wasn’t much of an issue.

D.C. was nonexistent. A confident persona, an empty shell made of foundation and yellow glitter, he was slowly fading as he busied himself with protests and overthrowing societal norms, as one does.

It didn’t feel as fun as it once had.

Patton focused on his friends, bringing homemade lunch for everyone and slipping little cut out hearts in their books when they weren’t looking.

No one dared mention the case or the fight, content to let things go back to the way they were. Or let them slowly get worse.

Patton hated it.

He wanted to talk to D.C. again, he wanted Virgil to stop glaring at him in the hallways, wanted not to notice the cold silence between his mothers.

School was hell and home was a frozen cell of cold glances and the minimal amount of words exchanged. It was filled with fake smiles and dishonest sweetness.

So, on a late night, around 4 am, Patton sent a reckless text.

_‘Hi. Can we talk? In person, I mean.”_

The response was a fast as it was unexpected but it made excitement swirl with fear in Patton’s stomach.

_‘I’ll be under the bleachers in 30 mins.’_


	12. The Dawn Illuminates Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Firstly, I want to thank everyone for the kind messages and responses to me taking a break. After everything I went through this year, it really made me feel better. Thank you, also, for being patient while I sort out my problems so that I can come back to this story in the best way possible.  
> I'm glad to be back and I can't wait for you all to see where our characters will go next.

_“No!”_

_Liquid splashed. He felt it on his face for the briefest moment before all sensation was replaced by searing pulsating pain that burned in a way that was almost too much to feel._

_Someone screamed. Perhaps it was him._

_The stairs blurred under him as he clambered up them and slammed his bedroom door._

_Then came the pounding._

_“D.C.! Open this door right now! Open it and let me see your face!”_

_D.C. sobbed, the tears worsening what was already agony spreading from his face to his neck, dripping under his shirt._

_Then he heard keys jiggling and his mother’s muffled voice reached him as she forced the answers out of Virgil._

_Poor Virgil. He must’ve been terrified, D.C. thought._

_She came through the door then._

_And she screamed like it was her own flesh being burned and not that of her son who sat crumpled on the ground in a convulsing bundle of pain and shaky exhales._

_“Jesus! What happened to your face, dude!”_

_“Ew.”_

_“Oh my gosh, what is that.”_

_“Is he blind?”_

_Elementary school was never supposed to be easy but, being a year away from finishing it, D.C. had thought he’d seen the worst of it. He’d never been more wrong._

_Curious questions became venomous insults once not granted an answer._

_“Right.” Someone scoffed. “Be entitled. Though I don’t see why you think you have the right to be.”_

_Hushed whispers grew sharper._

_“I heard he did it to himself. For attention or something.”_

_D.C. ignored it as best as he could and one day, the last day he’d ever have to set foot in that hellhole of a school, D.C. was so grateful he pulled through._

_Because someone approached him with a wide grin. “Hi!”_

_“Hello.”_

_“Name’s Remus.” The boy introduced._

_D.C. took in his appearance. Bold. That was the mildest way to describe him, taking into consideration the boy in front of him was 15._

_His nails were painted green, fingers full of rings of all shapes, from skulls to roses, a mix of gold and silver. His clothing was basically a mess of glitter and frills._

_And D.C. understood._

_He was a freak. An ‘attention seeker’._

_This strange boy was just like him. So, D.C. extended his hand. “I’m D.C..”_

_“Alright, prepare yourself, my dearest hoe.” Remus said, grooming his questionable mustache in his floor to ceiling mirror. “I got fucked.”_

_D.C. raised a brow._

_“Yeah. That cute senior I was babbling about?”_

_“The one you said was so sweet you could peel him like a banana and swallow him whole?”_

_“Yes, he is and yes, I did.” Remus winked cackling at his best friend’s gag._

_“Why am I always the one who has to listen to you talking about your sexcapades.”_

_Remus’ face fell. “’ Cause you’re the only one who listens to me talk about anything.”_

_“Because it’s a bad idea, Remus! A club?! He hasn’t spoken to me in years and you think he’ll want to join a ‘secret club’. And even if he did, the moment he figured out it was just to trap him into talking to me, he’d run away.”_

_Remus countered, “You can’t know if you don’t try.”_

_“It’s a stupid idea and it won’t work. We’re not doing it.”_

_“You always go on about wanting to fix things and now you’re so against this? Why don’t we try?! We have nothing to lose!”_

_D.C. tugged on his hair frustratedly. “I have everything to lose, Remus! Everything! Right now he ignores me. I don’t want that to turn into hate. I don’t think I could survive him hating me.”_

_His friend’s feral expression softened. “I see it differently.”_

_“Of course you do.”_

_“No, hear me out.” He straddled the chair he’d been rocking on and scooted closer to D.C.. “Either way, you’re losing him. If we keep things as they are, he slips out of your grip slowly over time. If we try my plan, either it works, or you lose him immediately. Like ripping off a bandaid.”_

_D.C. observed him for a moment, a strange expression on his face. “You’re the smartest dumbass I’ve ever met.”_

_College was a scary place._

_On his first day, Patton walked in slowly, steps careful as if the floor would crumble under him._

_Then he froze._

_Three pairs of eyes landed on him, all freshmen too by the looks of it._

_One of them was something off a stage, bright and bold, dressed in all kinds of colors, green being the most noticeable, his eyes accentuated in dark overly-dramatic makeup._

_Another stood to the side, seemingly annoyed to be there. He was dressed in all black save for the little purple cloud that hung off one of his ears and the silver ring on the other._

_He looked intimidating but in a pained sort of way._

_The third pair of eyes is what made Patton’s breath catch. One was glazed over, dead and the empty, the other, a strange mixture of brown and gold, anything but. It was full of questions, danger._

_The shine in that eye was a silver needle with a shimmering droplet of poison at the tip, the smirk on those lips the edge of a sharpened knife._

_Intimidated by the curious thirst for exploration that was awoken in him by that golden gaze, Patton approached the dark one who seemed to be hurting._

_And the gold one? He would never forget the sweet scent of the gentle boy’s perfume as he watched him shyly talking to his brother._

The bed beneath him was too firm and D.C. caught himself comparing it to the bed in Patton’s guest room, the way it had been so much softer to lay on, so much warmer.

There was a knock.

Fear, at first, tugged on his gut, then worry, and then, as his brother stepped in with a duffle bag, all he felt was confusion.

“Virgil?”

The emo smiled half-heartedly. “I’m home.”

D.C. shook his head defiantly. “No, you’re not.”

Virgil recoiled like he’d been slapped but there was something in his eyes like already forming regret.

“Did they see you?” D.C. insisted. “Do they know you came back?”

Virgil nodded.

There was one more question, the one that seemed to be hanging between them for quite some time.

D.C. was the one who dared breathe it out shakily. “Why?”

“There’s no other way, right?” Virgil’s voice was forcefully steady. “Roman would probably call it destiny. Either we stay here or the world falls apart.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. That theatre kid is really rubbing off on you.” D.C. scoffed. “Get away while you still can, Virgil. Or it’ll all be for nothing.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “What’ll be for nothing?”

“Everything I’ve done! Helping you is a thankless job, brother. But I did it anyway. I stayed back so you could have a headstart, I took it upon myself to control the chaos so you could escape it! And now you’re just gonna waltz back in like it meant nothing?! I gave up everything so you could run away!”

Virgil stared, a dark brow raised and arched. “You’re kidding right?”

“What?”

“How dare you even imply I didn’t have to do everything on my own because you were busy wallowing in misery in your room or hanging out with Roman’s freak brother.”

“Don’t call him a freak.”

“I’ll call him what I like!” Virgil yelled, caring not how it made D.C. take a step back. “I escaped on my own and I didn’t just run from them, I ran from you too!”

It stung more than D.C. would ever be willing to admit. D.C. had always known, always feared, his brother’s instability. While D.C. had inherited the silver tongue and capacity for manipulation as his worst traits, Virgil got dealt much worse cards from their parents' genetic pool. He got the temper and the rage, the uncontrollable need to control and to possess.

He got the capacity to cause deep-rooted pain that never could heal properly.

And D.C. saw that realization reflected in the storm of his eyes, knowing that Virgil understood the danger of who he could become if he took even one step in the wrong direction.

“You’re right.” He spat with venom, disgusted by his choice to use his darkness to battle Virgil’s. “You’re _absolutely_ correct, dear Virgil. I did nothing to _ever_ help _anyone_ , let alone you and all I did was have a _jolly_ time in my room while you fought a _horrible_ _war_ alone. Or,” He added with a smirk that could only be described as evil, “is it the other way around?”

Virgil could only glare at him through the purple streaks of his hair.

“Now,” D.C. brushed past him elegantly, “I have an arrangement I cannot miss.”

It was around 4:40 am when Patton finally saw him duck under the bleachers and make his way to the bench Patton was sitting on.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” Patton didn’t dare look at him once he approached. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I told you I would.”

“You’ve told me a lot of things.” He couldn’t help but snap.

D.C. loosed a tired sigh and slowly sat beside him, keeping a good distance between them.

Patton hated how it felt like they were strangers again after he’d began to wonder if they might become so much more.

“Why?”

D.C. looked at him with an expression of surprise he couldn’t quite understand. “Why what?”

“Everything.” Patton gestured vaguely. “Why?”

Perhaps it was the early hours of the morning and little sleep or, maybe, the way Patton’s round eyes seemed so open to the explanation, accepting of a possible apology or justification, either way, D.C. let the words flow.

“I just wanted to protect him.”

Patton didn’t dare interrupt the rare moment of openness offered to him by his mysterious companion.

“That’s always been what it’s about. Protecting Virgil. That was my job. My purpose. And then he left and my job got harder. But I was willing to keep doing it! No matter what! Then I met you.”

“And then what happened?” Patton prompted.

“I found someone else I wanted to protect.”

“Oh.”

A silence fell over them.

The dark sky lightened a fraction as the sun began to rise slowly and D.C.’s breath caught when the baby blue hue of the first seconds of a sunrise illuminated Patton’s face.

He was already looking back at him, his face scrunched up into a questioning expression of confusion.

“If you wanted to protect me,” Patton asked quietly, “Then why did you hurt me? Why did you leave?”

“Because,” his voice caught, gaining a vulnerable sharpness, “I had to protect you from myself.”

“I don’t understand.” Patton whispered helplessly.

“I bring chaos with me everywhere I go, Patton.” Finally, his voice cracked and broke as he uttered Patton’s name. “I ruined my relationship with Virgil because of the desperate need to shield him from everything and everyone. And when I stopped, when I ran away and decided to do it for myself…well, that’s when it all went to hell. I have to make sure you’re all safe no matter the sacrifice. It’s the one thing I’m good at.”

“But,” Patton’s voice was childishly defiant, “then who’s protecting you?” He reached out slowly and traced a finger across D.C.’s scared cheek. “Who’s making sure you don’t get hurt?”

D.C. ignored the question and the way Patton’s touch on his burned skin didn’t make his skin crawl but soothed instead, saying, “My family isn’t the problem. It’s me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoyed this go to my Tumblr @xworldofartemisx and request a fic, read what I've written on there, or just shoot me a message and we can chat!


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